


Road To Acceptance Series

by anerdwithakoreanhaircut



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: ((Chris/PJ/OCs are minute characters therefore are not constant-it is basically all Dan and Phil)), Alcohol, Drug Mentions, Erotic Dreams, F/M, Fingering, Food mentions, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Misogynistic Slurs, Parental Abuse, READING THESE MIGHT SPOIL THE STORY, ableist slurs, anxiety/panic attacks described, blood mentions, description of abuse (e.g. injuries that were left/the actions themselves), handjobs/blowjobs, heavily implied alcoholism, implied rape of a minor, sick/vomit mentions, slight co-dependency, swears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:37:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 57,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2581694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anerdwithakoreanhaircut/pseuds/anerdwithakoreanhaircut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan never thought alcohol could bring anything but misery into his life, and…well, he was kind of right; the headache was painful and the memories of how he spent his 18th birthday were gone. He manages to break into someone else's home. But it's because of the alcohol he meets Phil, who impacts his life in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of Body and Out of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> (yeah it's a shit summary, hush. this is my phandom big bang 2014 fic. also, i think i'll add a special part to this, an AO3 exclusive-we'll see.)

> _Warnings: alcohol, parental abuse, sick/vomit mentions, alcoholism implied, panic attacks described, blood mentions, broken bone, homophobic slurs, ableist slurs, food._

“There no way in hell above I’m takin’ anuddah shot!” Dan slurred, vigorously shaking his head at his friend, regretting it as the room began to spin. He laughs at how inarticulate he sounds.

 

“Aw, c’mon Dan! You’re finally eighteen! Just one more, yeah?” Caleb, Dan’s suspiciously sober-sounding friend, tries again.

 

Even though Dan’s obviously pissed out of his skull, he knows that he really, really shouldn’t.

He’s going to get black-out drunk, but it is his eighteenth birthday, finally, and he thinks, fuck it.

 

“Y’know wha’! Yeah, ge’ me anuddah shot!”

 

Caleb grins and pours Dan another shot of straight vodka.

~~~

 

 _Oh my fucking god_ , Dan thinks the second he becomes conscious. His head is pounding, and he already knows that this will be the worst hangover he’s ever had. His thoughts are slow to form,  his mouth as if he’s never had water before in his life, eyes heavy. There’s a dull ache in his left hand, giving him a clue that he probably hurt it at some point.

 

He doesn’t want to open his eyes because he can tell already it’s much too bright, but he hears someone clear their throat behind him and he jumps violently, eyes wide open, long enough to take in the beaming sunlight through some huge-ass window and causing his head to pound even harder.

 

He quickly forces them shut and starts to groan, but is immediately regrets it as it’s making his head ache even more than he thought possible.  He slowly moves his right hand up to his face to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

 

He hears an annoyed-sounding sigh and shuffling behind him as the person leaves the room.

 

 _Who was that? Where am I?_ Dan wants to ask, but he thinks better of it. Dan is abruptly ripped from his thoughts when he hears a sudden, loud noise that seems to be right against his eardrum, it’s so loud. He thought he was in pain before, but fuck. Tears sting his eyes as the pain doubles behind them, and he takes a quivering breath.

 

The noise sounds out again, and it seems to be that generic iPhone alarm sound. It’s so loud and it hurts Dan’s head so badly. His hands whip up to cover his ears as he rolls onto his front, and fuck, his hand hurts more than he expected. He pleads, asking for the noise to stop, but he doesn’t think he’s been heard, as his throat’s so dry he doesn’t think he can make a sound. He starts to cry at the pain he’s never felt so intensely before, only it’s being made worse by the crying, and it’s an endless cycle of crying a bit harder at the pain and the pain increasing because of the crying. Thankfully, the noise hasn’t sounded off again.

 

His right leg is hanging off what he presumes is a sofa, his face is squished into the seat and his arms are covering the back of his head, hands covering the opposite ears.  As he goes to take a deep breath through his nose, it’s unexpectedly filled with the acidic, rotten stench of sick, and his eyes fling open again and he quickly sits up on his knees to get away from it, wherever it is.

The pounding in his head is at an all-time high for him and he hastily closes his eyes and rushes his hands up to his face whilst simultaneously pulling his legs out from under him so they’re bent in front of him. His face is wet, and he remembers that he was just crying, and still is actually. He takes a deep breath, exhaling a shuddering sigh, which makes him dizzier than he already was feeling, on top of the migraine-like headache.

 

He again hears someone clearing their throat, so, shading his eyes away from the lighting on his right, he slowly opens his eyes. His eyes are open as he will allow, as with each millimeter they open, the more he just wants to rip them out of their sockets.  He carefully tilts his head up and ever so slowly rotates it to the left, in search of the person making the noise. He has a vague thought that he doesn’t want to be seen with tear tracks stained to his face, but not a half second later does he just not give a damn. It was then that he notices that he’s got no idea whose house he’s in; nothing looks familiar to him at all, and truth be told he doesn’t remember even leaving the club, much less how he arrived here or where ‘here’ even is.

 

Dan hears someone snapping their fingers, and he grimaces, and neither the noise nor the action help his thumping head, and yet another tear slides down his face. He hears a softer noise that still seems magnified to his over-sensitive ears; it sounds like when people rub their fingers together when they’re trying to call a cat over. He moves his head a little more to the left and jolts a bit as he’s met with a torso. The action causes him to quickly shut his eyes again, and a pathetic moan leaves his throat. He really cannot deal with how much pain he’s in.

 

As he looks again to the torso, his eyes lidded heavily, he briefly wonders how he hadn’t sensed someone so close to him. He tilts his head up, not sure if he’s ready to be face-to-face with this person yet, so he goes slowly. Through his hungover eyes, he sees a quite impatient, irritated, borderline angry, very attractive (he thinks, anyway) young man.

 

The man begins to speak too loudly for Dan’s ears, and promptly moves his hands to his ears yet again and moaning, which, again, increases the pain in his head.

 

He squints his eyes open in an attempt to look at the man, but he notices he’s disappeared.

Dan thinks that he should leave now, just in case he was actually kidnapped and maybe that man was angry because he hadn’t left or died…okay, he’s never taking that many vodka shots ever again.

 

He slowly moves his hands in front of his eyes so he can inspect the damage; the right one is perfectly fine, but the left one…

Through his still blurry vision, he can tell he’s done massive damage to his hand, possibly even broken it.  The blood that is stained over it makes him queasy, and before he knows it he passes out once more.

~~~

Dan wakes up sometime later, and he immediately is thankful that his headache is just that: just a simple headache. There’s a dull pounding, but other than that it’s a massive improvement from earlier.

 

Still, he sits up slowly, and has slight déjà vu from earlier as he’s positioned similarly. He pushes up, feeling the pain in his hand more prominently now, sure he’s broke it.  He doesn’t look down though, remembering it’s still bloody and how apparently that makes him faint.

 

As he sits up, he realises there was a blanket tucked around him, and he’s now confused on top of feeling ill. And that’s when it hits him that he’s still at this man’s place, this man he doesn’t know and can’t really recall their face.

 

_Wha—who did this? Why?_

 

At further inspection, he realises the curtains have been drawn on the huge window and there’s lighting around the room, just light enough to see but dim enough that it doesn’t make him want to crawl into the darkest hole imaginable.

 

He’s sitting back on his knees as he notices the glass of water, plate of crackers and biscuits, what looks to be paracetamol, and a note with a scrappily-written ‘stranger on my sofa’ across the front. Dan is immediately guzzling down the water, finishing off the pint in one go.

 

He knows he shouldn’t go rifling around this stranger’s apartment, seeing as he doesn’t even understand why or how he even ended up there, but he still gets up in search of the kitchen so he can fill the glass again. It doesn’t take long, as he realises it’s an open-styled flat and the kitchen and lounge are seemingly one room.

 

After filling and refilling his glass around three or four times, he returns to the sofa to munch on the crackers to get the pills down. He doesn’t think about the possibility that the stranger might have poisoned them somehow, maybe laced the water with GHB or rohypnol, or that those might not have been paracetamol tablets, until after he’s put them in his stomach. If there’s anything he hates more than swallowing pills, it’s puking, so he decides to just see how it plays out.

 

That train of thought reminds him that he definitely smelled puke when he first came to, but he’s not smelling it anymore. Actually, all he smells is a really pleasant cologne scent, and he’s beginning to wonder about where the putrid smell went when he remembers the note.

 

“Stranger on my sofa,” Dan reads aloud. He giggles a bit at that, then immediately feels bad. How did he get here?

He reaches for the note to read what’s inside when he notices his hand is wrapped up. How he hadn’t noticed that before, he doesn’t know, but he’s wondering why this person’s being so…accepting, almost, of him.

 

He grabs the note and opens it, and all it has in there is: _‘_ _If you want answers, you’re going to have to stay until I come home from running a few errands. Signed, Phil (the person’s whose door you tried punching yourself through last night at four in the fucking morning) (yes, that is how you hurt your hand, you stupid drunkard).’_

 

Dan wants to laugh but also wants to scream and rip out his hair.

 

_I’m not a drunkard I’m not I’m not I’m not I’m not._

 

His mum is, though. As is his dad, his much older brother. He comes from a family of them. In fact, he doesn’t know a single cousin, aunt, or uncle who hasn’t been through rehab to kick the drinking. Dan just wanted a fun night out on his first night being legal, that’s all. And whilst he hopes he had a fun night, he had a terrible start to the day and doesn’t understand why anyone would voluntarily do that to themselves every day.

 

 _Guess that’s why they were always drunk,_ Dan thinks.  _They didn’t want to face this part, so they just kept drinking._

 

Dan jolts suddenly, remembering that he was supposed to buy some booze for his father, as he is “a man now,” and needs to pay him back “for all the money I wasted on your fucking drama classes, you fucking fairy.” He was supposed to go home with it, he remembers. He was supposed to buy it after he was done at the pub, which was only supposed to be a drink or two, not a club, which turned out to be probably half a bottle of vodka just on his own. Then he was supposed to head home.

 

He’s panicking now, because for one, he didn’t buy the booze, two, he didn’t go home and three, he has no idea where he is so he can’t even go out, buy the booze, and go home. And as he frantically pats down his jean pockets, his heart sinks with the realisation that he lost not only his wallet, but his phone as well.

 

His dad might actually kill him when he finally does go home.

 

Suddenly he doesn’t want to know what happened last night; all he wants now are his wallet, his phone, and to know where the fuck he is so he can get the hell out of here. Because the longer he stays here, the worse it’ll be when he finally does get back.

 

He doesn’t know he’s crying until he’s choking on air, sobbing hard because this is _really, really bad_. He gets up, ignoring the quickly-returning pounding in his head, and starts frantically pacing the room, gripping at his hair and tugging it harshly, resisting the urge to just rip it all the fuck out.

He doesn’t hear the dead bolt clicking, the normal door lock clicking, the squeaky door swinging open. He doesn’t hear the confused strings of “Hey, you okay? Mate? Hey, are you alright?” which quickly turned to frightened strings of “Hey, it’s okay. Calm down, yeah? Please calm down. Please?”

 

But he certainly feels the hand grip his upper arm, and his mind brings him back to his house, his father clamping onto his upper arm, squeezing, tightening, twisting, slamming his body into the wall, screaming. That’s all that’s playing through his mind, that’s what he thinks is happening.

 

He stops pacing, rips his arm away from the person, and cowers into as small of a ball as he can possibly get his five-foot-ten frame to go. He’s screaming, “No! Please, dad, please it wasn’t my fault! Please don’t please please please.”  He’s shaking, feeling like he’s going to puke up all the contents of his stomach. He’s sobbing so hard, and he knows, he  _knows_  he’s going to get beat. His mind is making him hear the belt slip out of his father’s pant loops, can practically feel the hand across his face, the welts on his legs and backside.

 

He’s in such a state he doesn’t know what to make of the arms wrapping around him, the hand rubbing up and down his back in an attempt to sooth him. They remind him of his mother when he was younger, when she was younger and didn’t have the drinking problem she does now. She would circle her arms around five, six, seven year old Dan and promised,  _she promised_ , to get him away from his father one day when she had the courage. That she may have failed his older brother, but  _she promised to get him away_.

His father overheard her promise one day, though. Seven-year-old Dan had a welt from daddy’s belt slapped across his face, and as his mum was treating it, she started to whisper the same promise. His father apparently had the ears of a dog, because he stomped into the bathroom they were sat in and started yelling at her. Things escalated pretty quickly from there, and he beat her so bad she couldn’t even leave the house for a full week. That was the week she decided to give in and start drinking like her husband. It took Dan a long time to realise, a longer time to accept, that he had lost his comfort, his solace in her that day, too. It wasn’t until she was the one who put a welt on him that he finally accepted that she was no longer going to help him escape, because she was part of the issue now.

 

Dan’s crying had been slowing down, whilst he attempted to force himself to calm down, but the holding and patting his head that was going on, he ended up sobbing harder than before.

The arms wrapped around him, a hand pulling his head to the other’s chest, these actions were like opening a time capsule, and suddenly Dan wasn’t eighteen, his mother wasn’t a drunkard, because it was her. She was comforting him, in Dan’s head. He nestled into this person’s chest, using his right hand to grip their shirt. He inhaled deeply as he always did when his mother was cradling him, he expected to smell his mother’s lavender scent, but instead he got a nose full of a man’s cologne.

 

He was so lost in the past that he had begun thinking it was real, so being shoved back into reality was possibly the worst thing that had happened that day.

He didn’t know what to think; this was someone whose house he  _broke into_ , and they’re…attempting to comfort him.

 

Dan can’t help but feel disgusted in himself, undeserving of such nice gestures when he’s acted so despicable, so he shoves the person-Phil, he remembers-away. He curls into himself, his hands tugging harshly on his hair, rocking back and forth whispering a string of pleas, ranging from “please don’t touch me,” to “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, please, please don’t hurt me, please.”

~~~

It’s early evening by the time Dan’s collected himself, meaning it’s been at least a full twelve hours since he broke into this Phil’s flat. He has his back against the wall with the giant window, knees up, arms folded and resting on his knees. He’s staring numbly ahead of him, dried tear tracks staining his face, eyes puffy and red. Phil’s been sitting on the arm of his sofa facing Dan. He has a glass of water that he’ll offer Dan every few minutes by holding it out closer to him, but Dan dismisses it by a small, quick shake of the head.

 

He doesn’t know what to do. He should’ve left once he realised Phil wasn’t there, but he really wants to know what the hell happened, and he hopes to every god known to him that Phil actually knows what went down, or he’s going to be really fucking pissed at him.

Phil again offers out the water, and Dan stares at the glass long and hard and goes to grab it with his left hand. He remembers then that that hand is useless and drops it, groaning at the pain that shoots through it as it hits the floor.

 

He sees Phil stand up and crouch in front of him, taking Dan’s right hand and putting the water in it. Dan tries not to chug it, but the moment it hits his lips, it’s as if he hasn’t had a drink of water since last year. He ends up downing the water in one go, putting the glass down next to him; Phil quickly picks it back up to go fill it again.

 

 _It’s now or never, Dan. Hurry up and leave_. And boy does he want to, but he wants to know what Phil knows about his night more than he wants to leave, knowing what’s waiting for him at his return.

 

He doesn’t move, though. He hasn’t felt this cared for in eleven years, even if he doesn’t know Phil, it feels really, really good to have someone else look after him for once. He doesn’t want to give this up just yet, so he stays.

 

Phil doesn’t ask any personal questions, doesn’t question why Dan was sobbing earlier, why when Phil comforted him he accepted straight away, then shoved him away. Phil just goes with the flow, and Dan’s so grateful he feels tears again.

 

God, why is he so damn emotional today?

 

He blames the vodka and the hangover.

 

~~~

 

Another silent two hours and almost twelve pints of water later, Dan really has to pee.

 

He hasn’t spoken directly to Phil, the last words spoken were how he didn’t want Phil to touch him. He doesn’t even know Dan’s name.

 

Dan doesn’t know what to do first: introduce himself, or ask to use Phil’s bathroom. He clears his throat, but his name gets caught. He starts coughing uncontrollably, coughing into his elbow, turned away from Phil.

 

 _Oh my god I can’t even get my name out without embarrassing myself_ , he thinks and flushes in said embarrassment.

 

He clears his throat and attempts at speaking again.

 

“Mm, hello,” he laughs awkwardly. “Um, I’m Dan?” he mentally smacks himself in the forehead as it sounds as if he’s questioning his own name.  _How much of an idiot can I be?_

 

Phil chuckles, though, and says, “well, hi there, Dan. I, uh, assume you got my note, but just in case not, I’m Phil.”

 

Dan glances up to Phil, and is instantly drawn in by his eyes.  _How dare they look like that?_

Dan doesn’t realise how much more awkward he was making this encounter by staring at him until Phil pretend coughs and glances to the ground. He only thought he was blushing hard before, but now he’s sure his face is beet red.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles out, reaching up to floof his hair. He becomes aware of how gross and sweaty he is only just then, as his hair is really damp.

 

“Y’know, I don’t want to waste anymore of your time, I’ll just…I’ll go, sorry,” Dan goes to leave, but a sturdy hand on his shoulder indicates that Phil’s not allowing him to go anywhere just yet.

 

“No, sit, it’s…well, it’s not okay, you broke my damn door,” he chuckles at this as Dan becomes more irritated at himself.  _Add ‘destruction of property’ to your list of fuck-ups, Dan_.

 

He’s quickly on the verge of tears yet again, and Phil’s on it right away.

 

“Aw, no, it’s…I can deal with it! It’ll be fine! I’m just not happy that I was woken up at four a.m. by some pissed guy pounding on my door.” He pats Dan’s back hesitantly, unsure if this okay with the seemingly younger boy.

 

Dan knows that Phil is bullshitting him, that Phil’s actually highly irritated at having to replace his door. He can hear it in the tenseness of his voice.

 

“It’s not fine at all, and you know that! I broke your door, I woke you up, I commandeered your lounge, I passed out on your sofa without permission, I…oh my god, did I puke?” he looks up at Phil with a worried expression, eyes big and round and red. He knows he probably did, but needs the confirmation.

 

“Um, well, I mean-“

 

Dan interrupts with, “Please, just answer,” resisting the urge to roll his eyes and sigh.

 

“Okay, yeah, you did,” and as the words left his mouth, Dan wasn’t sure he’s ever felt more humiliated in his life.

 

“Did you…”

 

“Yeah, I cleaned it.”

 

Okay,  _now_  Dan has never felt more humiliated by a stranger in his whole life. He finds himself close to tears, yet again, as he covers his face to shield himself from the added embarrassment of having Phil see him.

 

He speaks through his hands as he says, “I’m so sorry, Phil. I didn’t-I mean, I don’t even remember anything from last night.” His voice sounds raspy and throaty, his head hurts, and he feels tears slowly making their way down his face for the third time today.

 

He continues with a whispered, “Did you fix my hand, too?”

 

Phil gives a conformational sound, and asks, “Do you…do you maybe need some ice?”

You’d think with all the times he’s been thrown around by his father and older brother he would’ve had a few broken bones in his time, but the reality is he’s never broken anything before. He remembers all those years ago his mum telling him something about needing ice and heat, but doesn’t remember which order and if that’ll even work with a possibly-broken hand.

 

He nods his head anyway, and Phil stands and rushes into the kitchen, coming back a minute later with what seems to be frozen peas and a towel.

 

“Sorry, I just realised I don’t have ice or an ice pack, so I hope the peas work. Here,” he gives the peas and towel to Dan, who takes them confusedly. He’s not sure what to do; does he put the peas on his hand and wrap the towel around them both?

 

He tries that, which earns an immediate chuckle from Phil.

 

“No, no, not like that. Wrap the peas in the towel, then gently rest it on your hand.”

 

Dan’s asking the question before he has time to mull over how stupid he may come off.

 

“Why can’t the peas go first so the towel can hold it to my hand?” Not the best worded sentence he’s ever spoken, but it’s understandable enough for Phil, apparently.

 

“Because you can get frost bitten if you’re not careful. Also, it’s freezing. Do you really want something that cold sitting on your hand for that long?”

 

“How long am I supposed to leave this on my hand?” Dan asks, confusion thick in his hoarse voice.

 

“Like, around fifteen minutes or so, not too long, but still long enough for it to cause issues if you were to apply the cold thing directly to your skin.”

 

“But it wouldn’t be directly on my skin, it would be on the bandage,” he hates that he can’t stop questioning Phil, because obviously this guy has more knowledge than him in this area, but he really doesn’t understand. When he doesn’t understand, he asks questions in order to prevent confusion, but unfortunately in this case it seems to be causing more confusion, if the look on Phil’s face is anything to go by.

 

“I don’t know how it works, but that’s how I was taught to deal with bones that may or may not be broken,” Phil nods towards his hand, and continues. “Just, here,” he takes the peas and towel back and does what he told Dan to do, making Dan feel more useless than a white crayon on white paper.  _Why didn’t I just listen to him? Why did I question it? Why?_

  
  


He doesn’t look too angry, but he may just be very good at keeping himself composed. That’s a skill his father possesses, his brother, too, so he’s on edge and just waiting for everything to turn into hell.

 

Phil takes Dan’s hand, and Dan winces really hard, waiting for Phil to twist it and hurt it more to teach him some lesson that he never actually learns (because there never was a lesson, his father’s just abusive. The only lessons he’s ever learned from his father are that he’s never having kids he can’t properly care for and he’s never, ever going to be a drunkard.).

Phil obviously notices the wince, and he asks Dan to look at him. Dan really doesn’t want to look up at him, but he does anyway, because Phil spoke softly, and Phil’s been sweet and nice and generous and hasn’t really asked for anything in return, at least nothing anywhere near comparable to what he’s done for Dan so far.

 

Dan glances into Phil’s eyes and is thrown by what he finds: worry and sadness and pain and…a little bit of fear? He doesn’t want to look at Phil, it’s almost painful to see such emotions shining in this stranger’s eyes, especially when they’re directed towards him.

 

He’s not sure what Phil’s going to ask or say, but he’s hoping with all the hope he can muster that Phil won’t ask him why he’s flinchy, why he winces, or why he was screaming earlier to not touch him. He doesn’t want to discuss this with his best friends, much less this stranger.

 

“Dan…” Phil whispers in a tone which suggests that he wants to ask something he probably shouldn’t. His eyes flicker back and forth between Dan’s eyes, and apparently he makes up his mind on what to ask.

 

“Um…do, uh, do you want to know what happened last night?” Dan can tell that’s not what Phil actually wants to ask, but he’s grateful for the segue from a conversation that would have induced panic attacks.

 

“That, um, that would be great, actually. Yeah.”

 

“Okay, where do you want to start?”

 

“Well, the begin-“

 

“If you even think about continuing that overused pun, I’m shoving you out my door.” If it wasn’t for Phil’s tone, Dan would’ve thought he was being serious.

 

He giggles a bit, then nods at Phil. “Okay, then. Please start from the beginning, then.” He offered a small smile to him.

 

Phil returns the smile, and settles himself in front of Dan, resting his back against the wall perpendicular to the wall Dan’s still resting against.

 

“Okay, well, I was sleeping when-“

 

A wave of need hits Dan suddenly, and he has to cut Phil off from his story in order to not have another accident on Phil’s floor.

 

“I really want to know, but I really, really need to go to the bathroom first?” He’s blushing

again, even though going to the bathroom is one of, if not the most natural thing ever to exist.

 

He doesn’t feel so silly blushing anymore as he sees a light dusting of pink covering Phil’s cheeks, too.

 

“Oh, yeah, of course! Um, if you go through the hall, it’s the first door on your left.” Phil stands, and puts his hand out to help Dan get up, which Dan gratefully takes. He groans in pain, though, as he hasn’t moved from that on spot, that one position, in hours, and his muscles are stiff. He stretches, reaching his hands up and standing on his toes, scrunching his face up and yawning deeply.

 

When he relaxed a bit, he caught Phil staring. He whipped his head around, blushing furiously, and Dan couldn’t help but smile widely, blushing as well.

 

He went the way Phil had told, sneaking looks around Phil’s apartment.

 

 _The décor is really nice_ , he thinks. He gets to the bathroom, and takes a long look around. He likes how nice and clean and just, manly, yet soft, and he really, really likes it. He’s always had an interest in interior decorating, even started buying things to make his room look like the magazines he thumbed through at the stores, but his father took one step into his room and, well, he doesn’t have any of those things anymore. His father called him all the homophobic names Dan knew about, and then started to tell him that he ‘wasn’t a man, because what kind of man likes decorating?’

 

He’s had to pretend to be a different person in his house so his father wouldn’t beat him as hard, but unfortunately, out of the few things his father remembers about Dan when he’s

drunk, seeing his room “all fairy-ed up” was one of them.

 

He finishes up, zipping his zip back up and closing the toilet lid to flush. He goes to turn on the sink, but realises it’s one of those really nice sinks that you have to tap with your wrist on the left (hot), right (cold), or middle (good mix of the two temperatures) to get the water. This was the sink nozzle that he wants so bad when (if) he’s ever able to decorate his own house (if he’s ever able to move out). The sink is a smooth, white marble, set in a frosted stainless steel base. Oh, it’s amazing. He loves it so much. He notices how the shower doors are crystal clear, the shower head is removable and at least six inches in diameter, and, judging by the buttons he sees, has different settings, as well. The tiles in the shower are probably about an inch wide and vary from three to six inches in length, and the colours vary from white, silver, and different shades and tints of greys.

 

He wants to rush through washing his hands in order to take longer glances at the rest of the apartment, to see if it’s as clean and put together as the bathroom, but is taken over by the soap that smells heavenly.  

 

 _Cherry, vanilla, and almonds_ , he reads.  _Huh, maybe I should get some_ -he quickly cuts his thoughts off by reminding himself that if he isn’t killed tonight, he will be if he brings home such a “feminine” scented soap.

 

He slowly comes out of the bathroom, and is met with a light grey-blue wall, spotted here and there with photos of people who are probably Phil’s family. He takes a few second to mourn the family he never had, as the family in the photos look genuinely happy. Not professionally taken, spur-of-the-moment quick shots that capture memories of fun days. Instead of walking away like he planned to, he can’t help just staring at the  happy family. Those few seconds turn into a few minutes, and he can’t help but wish his family were like what this one seems to be.  There’s at least twenty different photos, some are cheesy photos at popular vacation spots, like Epcot in Florida. Some seem to be from family gatherings, random moments forever printed on a piece of paper, reminders. The rest seem to be random moments in their day-to-day lives; from ‘please don’t take this picture’ faces with the others giggling in the background, to ‘I’m going to make a silly face because I still don’t want my picture taken.’ This is a family that loves each other.

 

He’s so lost in what he missed out on, a proper family experience, proper family love, that he doesn’t realise that, for the fourth time today, he has tears slipping down his cheeks. He doesn’t hear Phil sneaking up on him. He does, however, hear the throat being cleared.

He turns to look at Phil, then says, very quietly, “Your family’s very happy, yeah?” and he doesn’t mean to sound so sad and broken, but sometimes he has no control over his tone.

Phil looks at him sadly, and then pretends to wipe away tears. For a moment, Dan’s deeply offended. Is he making fun of him? But then he reaches his hand up to his own face and realises that it’s wet again.

 

He groans and fake laughs, harshly wiping his face. “Sorry, I’m not normally this…” he’s at a loss at what to call it. Pathetic? Sad?

 

“Emotional?” Phil offers, and Dan’s smile is small and sad as he nods his head in agreement.

 

“Do you, um. Do you maybe, uh, want a um?” He seems uncomfortable as he extends his arms out to Dan.

 

Dan isn’t sure what he’s meant to do, until he realises Phil’s asking Dan if he wants a hug. Dan’s taken aback, not having had a proper hug in over a year, but takes Phil’s offer, quickly slipping into Phil’s arms before it’s revoked, and rests his head on Phil’s shoulder whilst wrapping his own arms around Phil’s waist.

 

He can’t tell if he took Phil by surprise, but he’s tense at first. Dan worries that he was too forward, even if Phil did offer, but he feels Phil relax into it and loves the way he pushes Dan’s head into him, and greatly enjoys how he hugs, hugging Dan tightly but not harshly. He’s shorter than Phil by a few inches, and for once he’s thankful for being shorter.

 

He hates himself a little as he starts to quietly cry. Phil doesn’t need to deal with a crying child who broke into his fucking house. He shouldn’t have to, and he should’ve just dragged him outside and left him. Actually, he shouldn’t’ve had to even do that, Dan shouldn’t have broken in in the first place. He can’t believe he broke in, why did he break in to this apartment?

 

“I’m so sorry for breaking in, so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t even know why-”

 

Phil interrupts him. “Shh, Dan, it’s…well, we can talk about that later, okay? Don’t fret right now, alright?” he emphases with a pat and rub on his back. For once in his life, Dan doesn’t continue to apologise, and just allows himself to be comforted.

 

They remain in that position for both too long and not anywhere near long enough for Dan. Phil releases him, but leaves his arm around Dan’s shoulders, leading him back to the lounge.

Dan takes a look around and concludes that he loves Phil’s flat. It’s decorated beautifully, the appliances in the kitchen are stainless steel, black cabinets with stainless steel handles, different shades and tints of blue-grey make up the backsplash behind the sink, with a dark mahogany wood flooring. The carpet in the lounge is shaggy and light grey, the sofa is plush, soft, black leather, and there’s a matching reclining chair. There are fleece blankets thrown over the back of a sofa, one rolled up and thrown on the seat.

 

“I really like your flat,” Dan couldn’t help but say.

 

Phil chuckles— _why is he always chuckling?_ —and thanks him.

 

Dan sits down on the sofa, taking the seat closest to him, expecting  Phil to sit on the opposite side of it, but he instead takes a seat in the recliner. Dan stretches out on the sofa, then, legs easily reaching the other side, his back leaning against the arm. He crosses his arms in front of him, crosses his legs at the ankles. It’s at that exact moment that he notices he doesn’t have shoes on, and has no idea where they are. He makes note to ask about them, and his phone and wallet, and hopes Phil knows what happened to them.

 

Phil sits there silently, and Dan supposes he’s waiting for Dan to speak up, to ask him to continue the story he cut off.

 

“So, um, can you start again? With the story about what, uh, happened? Last night?” Dan doesn’t think he’s ever sounded more illiterate than he has today in his entire life.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Phil clears his throat and moves so his right leg is folded under him and pulls his left leg up, and bends his arms around it, resting his chin on his knee.

 

“Okay, so, you banged on my door for probably a good ten minutes-“

 

“Why didn’t you tell me to fuck off?” Dan couldn’t help but voice his wonder.

 

“I was hoping you’d figure out that I wasn’t going to answer and fuck off yourself! Anyway, then I heard a weird, loud crack noise, and I knew, I just  _knew_  that my door was busted. I flew up from bed, grabbed my phone and a hammer that I always keep by my bedside just in case, and quietly made my way into the lounge towards the door. That’s when I started hearing you screaming for someone named Aimee? Ring a bell?”

 

Dan’s eyes lit up in recognition, which quickly turned into sadness, because yes, he knew that name. He knew that name very well, actually. Aimee was his one and only girlfriend that he had for three years, though she was seventeen when they started dating, and he was only fourteen. They would probably still be together, too, if that accident hadn’t occurred.

 

He nods his head sadly, motioning for Phil to continue.

 

“Okay, so you were screaming for her to let you in. And when I say screaming, I mean I’m shocked none of my neighbours called the police on you. Anyway, I thought you just had the wrong apartment, because you were obviously pissed out of your mind. So, hammer in hand, I went to open the door when the wood broke in the middle, and I heard a really strained screech from I’m presuming you.

 

“So I unlocked my locks, opened the door, and you had to have been leaning on it because you fell backwards into my apartment. You were cradling your hand, and you wouldn’t stop  talking about this Aimee. I didn’t know what to do, you got up, dripping blood all over the place, slurring out her name constantly. I tried to tell you I didn’t know who she was, I’ve never met anyone with that name, but you insisted she lived here.”

 

Dan took a good, hard, long look around the apartment again. Aimee got her own place the month she turned eighteen to escape her own shitty family situation, and she had promised to let Dan stay with her, no matter their relationship status, when he turned eighteen. The décor was so different from when he last saw this place, but it was the same structure.

 

Dan refused to cry again, but his eyes did get watery. He felt like he owed Phil an explanation,  something to let him know why.

  
  
  


“Aimee was, um, m-my girlfriend,” he could tell he was going to be stuttering the rest of the explanation he didn’t want to for obvious reasons, but it was either that or let himself cry, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle doing that, again, especially over this.

 

“She, uh, yeah, she had lived here for two years. I would come here on the weekend when I was able to to get…um, have fun. With her. We’d have fun together, she was nice.” How was he going to get through this?

 

He’s not. He knows he’s not, but he’s going to try anyway.

 

“She, sh-she helped me a lot, as much as she could. She had t-told me that I could stay here when I turned eighteen, and I, uh, guess I always remembered that,” he wipes his eyes that are already rubbed raw.

 

He feels ill, talking about her. He hasn’t talked about her in a year.

 

“Oh, alright,” Phil sounded unsure, like he wasn’t sure it was okay to continue his train of thought, so Dan nodded, as if to say ‘go on.’

 

Phil looks at him skeptically, but continues anyway.

 

“Well, um, what happened, then? Why’d she move?”

 

He was so sure that he had no more tears left to cry, but there he was, bawling his eyes out again. He squeezes around himself.

 

He can tell Phil’s going to come over, but he puts a hand out to stop him.

 

“No, just…please stay over there? I need to talk, but I won’t be able to with you over with me.” He’s pleased with how well that came out.

 

“Okay, talk when you want,” Phil speaks softly and kindly and it hurts Dan, because he has no idea what Phil’s plans were today, but he’s sure he fucked them up.

 

It only took a minute for him to calm down, and he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to smoothly tell his little story, yet he continues anyway.

 

“She loved this place. She was looking forward t-to when I could move in, she would call me with a countdown to how long until I could mo-move in. She was excited, and I was so, so hopeful…” right now, he’s just sad, almost numb.

 

Dan had mumbled off into silence, and he wasn’t sure he could continue. He needs to, though. Phil deserves an explanation as to why some drunk-ass kid was literally breaking down his door in the early hours in the morning.

 

He clears his throat, and he knows this next bit is going to be almost impossible to say.

 

“About a year ago, I got a phone call. I had thought it was going to be Aimee, I was expecting a call because it was my birthday soon and we were making plans,” his voice cracks, he sniffles and presses the ball of his hands into his eyes. He knows he’s saying too much, giving a stranger too much information about himself to someone he’s probably never going to see again, someone who’s probably never going to want to see him again, but for some reason he can’t stop.

 

“It was a doctor at some hospital, and, well the conversation’s really blurry in my head, but the words I remember are ‘you’re the only contact…’ ‘robbery…’ and ‘scared to death.’ She was literally scared to death!” He coughs out the last word, choking on it as he folds into himself, scrunching into a small ball.

 

He regrets so much about their long, yet too short, relationship. He regrets not letting her hug him as often as she wanted to, all the missed kisses he dodged, the cuddles he refused. He didn’t let her hold his hand as often as she wanted. She was affection deprived and craved it and accepted it whenever she could, and he was terrified of touch. She cherished those few moments she was given, and he cherished them just as much, if not more, because those few moments let him know that he’d be okay again. Not right away, but eventually. She could help me enjoy it again, he used to constantly tell himself.

 

She had moved all the way up to Manchester from Wokingham to get away from her family, even changed her last name. Last he knew they were still unaware of her death; he never told them, and honestly never intends to. They threw a party the day after she had left, leaving a simple note saying ‘goodbye.’ They saw her as a burden and didn’t give a shit about her at all.

He knows Phil wants to try and calm him, as that’s what he’s been doing anytime he has cried, but he’s so thankful he hasn’t moved. He’s thankful he’s just able to be right now, he doesn’t think he can handle touch at this moment.

 

A few minutes later, he feels calm enough to try and continue. He just needs someone else to share this pain with him.

 

“I loved her s-so much, she meant so much to me, she helped me,” his  voice trails off.

 

“Can I ask, um…” Phil’s voice cracks, causing Dan to glance over to him.

 

His eyes are red and watery, and it looks like he’s been trying to hold it together. Dan’s again flooded with a very thankful feeling, thankful that this stranger is willing to let Dan crash (literally) into his life for the day, and let him just talk. He feels horribly guilty though, for the same reasons.

 

“Listen, you’ve done so much for me, when really you could’ve just called the police on me and none of this would’ve happened…” he feels so ashamed now.

 

He hastily gets up and nervously says, “I should leave, I’ve disrupted your life enough-”

 

He’s cut off by Phil’s firm hand on his shoulder again. Phil immediately yanks his hand away when Dan tenses severely, but asks Dan to, “Please, sit down. You’re not a massive bother to me, I haven’t got anything to do today. You couldn’t have chosen a better day to break in,” he tries for casual, but it falls flatter than a pancake.

 

Dan’s silent for a moment before he blurts out, “I’m not a drunkard!” He doesn’t mean to yell, but that’s the volume he uses. It seems to bounce off the walls, the words echoing silently.

 

Phil looks taken aback by the sudden exclamation, but is quick to nod his head in agreement.

 

“Okay, yeah, no you’re not.” He sounds frightened, like Dan might rip his head off if he said the wrong thing.

 

“I didn’t mean to yell, sorry…” Dan’s tired, he wants to know what happened last night—or, rather, earlier this morning—and then leave. He doesn’t know where he would leave to, he doesn’t think he can go to his house, not yet. Not that he ever wants to return there ever again, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go just yet.

 

“Can you just finish the story so I can go?” he settles back onto the sofa, Phil returning to the recliner.

 

“Yeah, um…where was I? Oh, you were screaming for her, you reeked of alcohol by the way. You collapsed to the floor cr-um, sad. You were sad,” Phil looks at him apologetically.

 

“I tried pulling you up, but you started scooting away, begging me not to touch you. So, I didn’t. I closed my door, locked it, went to my room and fell back asleep.”

 

“That…that’s it?” Dan was hoping for more.

 

“Well, I woke up this morning to you asleep on my sofa, which I guess I was expecting. You could barely walk, so I figured there was no way you could unlock locks to get out.”

 

“You essentially locked me into your apartment…” An uncomfortable feeling washes over him as he lets that sink in.

  
  


“I didn’t think about that bit at the time, I was tired and wanted to sleep, but also didn’t want anyone else to just waltz into my apartment because the locks weren’t done. I didn’t mean to lock you in, it’s just…that I did.” Phil seems worried, like Dan’s about to yell at him.

 

“I’m not mad, fuck’s sake I broke your door and basically broke into your apartment, I don’t have room to be mad at you for not wanting anymore fuckwits in your apartment. God, why didn’t you make me leave? Force me out? Something? Why let me stay?”

 

“Yeah, Dan, I was going to let you leave and possibly get yourself killed. Yeah, what a smart fucking idea-”

“I made it from Wokingham to here without an issue!” Dan screams, getting irritated at Phil for the sole reason that he believes Dan’s incapable of looking out for himself. The screaming backfired, making his head ache more.

 

Phil scoffs. “Wokingham?”

 

He’s said too much. He knew he was already telling Phil too much when he started talking about Aimee, but now he just gave away where he lives. Well, the town he lives in, at least. What the hell is wrong with him?

 

No point in trying to backtrack now. “Yeah, Wokingham. I was at a club there for my eighteenth birthday…I wasn’t supposed to get drunk, I went out for a drink or two, but my friends insisted to get me black-out drunk, so…” He’s never getting drunk again, he’s decided. Not only does he never, ever want to end up like anyone in his immediate or extended family, but he doesn’t want to just lose himself that badly ever again.

 

Phil stares at him incredulously. “I cannot believe you made it up here okay. There’s so many wackos out there already, particularly at night, and especially in Manchester.”

 

“Well, my phone, wallet, and apparently shoes are missing, but I seem to be physically fine.”

 

“Oh, no. When I got up, your stuff was scattered.  Your shoes are over there,” he points to his left. “Your wallet’s on my counter, but your phone…” he shakes his head. “Your phone was in the vomit. I cleaned it up best I could, but I had to throw away your cover. The actual phone should be okay,” he gets up and grabs his wallet and phone. “Here you go.”

 

Dan takes his things, looking through his wallet and finding his money gone, probably spent at the club or on the cab he took up here…

 

“Oh my god I took a cab!” he exclaims suddenly, ecstatic that he can actually  _remember_ something from last night.

 

Phil obviously hears the excitement in his voice and smiles at him.

They talk for another half hour about simpler things, and find that they have a few things in common.

 

Dan’s stomach growls and he looks over to Phil with a guilty smile.

  
Phil smiles back at him. “C’mon, I know a really good sushi restaurant down the road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strangers.


	2. Drain the Pressure from the Swelling

> _Warnings: **implied rape of a minor** , blood mention, parental abuse, descriptions of abuse, implied alcoholism, abelist slurs, anxiety/panic attacks described, food._

Dan’s on his break when he feels his phone vibrate. He dusts off white powder (flour, he thinks) from his hands and takes his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he sees who’s calling.

“Hey, Phil!” Phil’s been in Florida for the past week, and the internet was so slow that skyping was impossible, so they haven’t spoken in that amount of time.

“Hey, Dan!” He responds with the same amount of enthusiasm Dan’s sure he exuded in his own greeting.

“When did you get home?”

 

“Just a few minutes ago. I’m super jetlagged, but I know you are on break right now, and I really wanted to check in before I crash for a few hours.”

Dan can’t help the smile that widens across his face. A few months ago when he broke into Phil’s apartment, there was no way he could’ve possibly predicted that they’d become friends, keeping in contact with each other by texting and/or calling each other almost every day and skyping once or twice a week. Yet that’s exactly what transpired.

“Nah dude, I don’t believe you, you said the second you get home from being on an aeroplane for that long you knock out right away.”

He hears Phil sigh and he knows he’s right.

“Okay, yeah, fine, you caught me,” Dan can imagine the eye roll Phil does as he said this. “I wanted to invite you to a party I’m throwing on Saturday, and since I know you don’t work Saturdays and Sundays, I would really, really like if you could come back up here to attend. Possibly stay the night, if you feel like it.”

Dan’s really happy, initially. Getting to see Phil again would be the best thing to have happen to him since he the day (well, the afternoon/evening portion of that day) they met. But reality crushes that happiness quicker than he can blink.

“Well, I’ll have to check in with my parents,” he knows they’ll never let him, “but if they do let me go, than yeah, I would love to be there!” Dan’s voice is dripping with fake enthusiasm. He doesn’t want to get Phil’s hopes up.

After Dan came back from Phil’s, the only reason he didn’t end up dead was because he brought home four bottles of his father’s favourite liquor. He did end up going to hospital, though. Not like he had much of a choice with two broken ribs and an inability to breathe.

“I don’t know who they were,” Dan had told the attending nurse about the “people” that beat him.

“I couldn’t see their faces, and they didn’t speak to me. I’d never be able to pick them out of a line up,” Dan had told the officer that was called.

His home life had never been more miserable; no matter what he did right, it was always the one thing wrong that lead to his father’s belt connecting to his body. Even if he didn’t do anything wrong that day, he got the belt or the hand or the fist. Or a horrific combination of the three, maybe a bottle being smashed over his head or back. The day he came back from Phil’s involved a wooden chair being smashed to smithereens. He’s lucky he only got away with two broken ribs.

He managed to look in the mirror the other day, to see the damage to his back since the beatings have increased significantly. There are different sized welts, bruises of all sizes and colours. There are fingertip sized bruises covering his upper arms.

Luckily enough for him his job requires a long sleeved black button down.

“Nuh huh, Dan. You’re coming up here if I have to travel down there myself to drag you up. You’re eighteen now, you don’t need your parents’ permission to do things.” Phil sounds so sure of himself, and Dan desperately wants to believe him, but…

“No, I still live under their roof, Phil. I have to follow their rules or I get punished.” Dan was hoping to pass that off in a casual, maybe even joking tone, but it came out as serious as he’s ever sounded.

The pause on Phil’s end made Dan panic a bit, so he claimed having to go back to work (even though he knows that Phil knows Dan has another fifteen minutes) and hastily hangs up.

~~~

“Your mum and me are going on vacation for two weeks,” Dan’s father informs him when he returns from work.

He thinks his hearing is off, but does not ask for a repeat of the statement, instead waiting for his father to continue.

“We’re going to Italy first, then France. You are to take care of the house whilst we are gone, and if you do not follow our instructions that we have written out, you will be punished for disobeying,” his eyes are so cold when they look over to Dan that he has a physical reaction, shivering as if a cold breeze passed by.

Dan cannot believe what he is hearing; his parents never, ever went on vacation, never, ever left Dan alone.

“We were hoping for Samuel to get his ass up here from Dorchester to keep an eye on you-” the silent  _“and to keep you in line”_  was heard loud and clear, “but the lazy fuck refused to make the trip. Says Elizabeth needs him for some stupid reason. So you are on your own, but if you make even one mistake, leave the house for anything other than work or to replace the things you eat, you won’t be able to sit down for a week, y’ hear?”

Dan gulps, quickly nodding his head in affirmation of his orders.

“Good. We leave late on the sixteenth, and we come back on the thirty first.”

He cannot believe the blessing the universe has given him. Phil’s party is on the nineteenth, meaning if he’s extra super careful, he’ll be able to go.

~~~

Dan’s extremely anxious about texting Phil, confirming that he will be able to go to his party. He’s waiting until his parents leave to text him, because he’s afraid they’ll check his phone before they go.

He’s so distracted about being able to see Phil again in four days that he drops the plate he was drying, sending it to the tiled floor to shatter everywhere.

_This is bad, oh my god this is so bad._

It’s just a plain white ceramic plate, bought as part of a cheap set, but his father won’t care.

He can hear the pounding of his father’s feet (almost matching the pounding of his heart) as he desperately attempts to clean the shards before his father sees. Unfortunately, their house is small, so it doesn’t take long at all for him to pound into the kitchen to see the mess Dan made.

He doesn’t even have time to apologise before he feels the belt connect with his extremely sore back.

He cries out but doesn’t try to block or escape the beating, knowing it’ll be easier if he just stays put.

His father is screaming out obscenities, telling him that he’s so worthless and useless that he can’t even do the dishes properly. That he can never do anything right, he’s a fuck up.

Dan counts out ten belts to his back before his father stops, and briefly wonders if his father counts them, or just stops when he feels like it.

“Stop crying you fucking pathetic faggot, get the fuck up, clean this mess up, and go to your room for the night. If you sneak any food, I will make you puke on the floor and force you to eat it again, do y’ hear me you piece of shit?” The stench seeping from his mouth let’s Dan know that he’s been dipping into his whiskey.

Dan quickly nods his head and gets to work cleaning the rest of the shards, attempting (and failing miserably) to ignore the pain on his back. One of the shards slices his hand and he quickly stands to get a towel for it, making a mental note to hide it as his parents don’t really pay attention to their belongings anyway. They won’t care that it’s ruined.

~~~

He’s surprised that his parents actually leave, shocked to find that they, in fact, did leave him on his own.

After last night’s beating, he’s not sure he should go to Phil’s anymore.

He really, really wants to see Phil again, but he’s not sure, no, he  _knows for a fact,_ going to see Phil isn’t worth the risk of another beating, or worse.

But he wants to see Phil.

Dan goes on skype to call Phil, knowing Phil’s almost always ready to answer.

Dan didn’t even get the chance to press the button because Phil does it first.He smiles a little to himself, glad to know he’s not the only one excited to see the other.

Accepting the call straight away, he answers with a soft, “Hi, Phil.”

“Hey, Dan,” Phil said in a similar tone.

Dan quickly realises he should’ve sat somewhere else; his back is so sore. He was actually able to see the outlines of the welts through his thin shirt.

He has to stick it out, sitting on his bed, though. If he winces even the slightest, Phil will be all over it because, he suspects.. he  _knows_  something’s amiss with Dan’s living situation.

About a month ago, Dan had promised Phil an extra-long skype call; he wasn’t able to talk on camera for the last week because his mother had back-handed him so hard it left a hand-shaped bruise on his face for two days. Then the day after it finally went away, his father did the exact same thing in the exact same place, though a lot harder. The bruise lasted longer this time. In fact, he had been able to see it in the mirror, but he had thought it was too faded to be picked up on the crappy webcams.

Boy was he wrong.

He pressed the button to call, and Phil’s happy face appeared. Dan had tried to appear just as happy, but not only did the front of his thighs hurt from a belting making smiling genuinely difficult, Phil’s face had dropped, sad and concerned.

“Dan, your face…”

Three words. Three words was all it took for Dan to go into a panic; the lies that normally came easy to him were nowhere to be found, which left him choking on the truth.

He knew Phil had seen his face contort into an expression of pure fear. He could see Phil calculating and adding together all of Dan’s odd behaviour. He could actually physically see Phil recall the little outburst he had when Phil had found him panicking and grabbed his upper arm in an attempt to get him to stop pacing and hopefully calm him down.

That ‘extra-long skype session’ got cut down to barely a minute, as he hastily hung up and turned his laptop and phone off.

A couple of days after that, he shot for normalcy and Phil had apparently decided to play along. Eventually, it did feel normal again, albeit whilst Phil still looked worried, even when smiling.

So ever since, he’s been trying to not show an ounce of pain in fear that Phil would say something again, knowing he wouldn’t be able to come up with a lie plausible enough to cover.

“So…?” Phil prompts, and Dan knows he wants an answer, a confirmation that he will be traveling up to see Phil over the weekend. He looks so hopeful, and Dan’s sure that if this were over the phone, his response would’ve been the complete opposite of what he ends up saying.

“Actually, if it’s okay with you, can I come up there on Friday? And maybe stay until, like, next Saturday or Sunday? I know this is kinda last minute…” his boss had informed him earlier today that the restaurant would be closed from this Friday to next Friday, leaving Dan with nothing to do for over a week as he would have the following Saturday and Sunday off next week, as well. His friends have all headed off to uni, and he was bored and lonely. And spending some physical time with Phil sounds more appealing than a week alone in a house full of haunting memories and feeling disheartened over unanswered texts from aforementioned friends.

Phil’s smiles so big and wide that Dan can’t help but return it. He’s so very, very nervous about blatantly disobeying his parents’ orders, but right now it seems worth anything he gets.

“You have no idea how awesome that sounds to me, Dan. God, I would love to have you as a guest for the week!” he looks so excited and knowing he made Phil smile like that, made him looks so happy, makes him know that when he does get his next punishment, he’ll be okay with it.

~~~

Dan never thought he’d dislike being left alone in his memory-haunted house, and whilst actually being alone isn’t a problem, the silence is almost suffocating. He managed to make it through the night on Wednesday (thanks to Bear), and today he was at work and occupied, but now that he’s at his house and it’s becoming dark again, he’s a bit spooked.

He figures out he’s more than a bit spooked when he hears the slight wind rattle the tree next to his house, making that stereotypical scary movie noise, and his immediate reaction is to squeal and hide under his duvet.

 _I have to call Phil,_  he thinks.

He realises as he hears Phil pick up the phone that he has nothing to actually say to him; he just…feels safe whilst talking to Phil, and he wants to feel safe right now.

“Hey Dan, what’s up?” Phil sounds exhausted, and Dan feels bad, almost guilty, for seemingly disturbing him. No matter how comforting it is to hear Phil’s voice, he just can’t handle feeling like he’s burdening him.

“Oh, it’s…it’s nothing really. You sound tired, should I just try and call you tomorrow maybe?” He wants to sound confident, but he can hear that he sounds sheepish and slightly like he’s five again and wants his mum to sleep in his bed after having a nightmare.

Apparently Phil can also hear that as well.

“Are you alright over there? You sound- don’t know, you sound kinda… scared?” Dan doesn’t know if the lilt at the end of the sentence means that Phil’s questioning how he sounds, or if it’s an implied question that he wants Dan to answer.

Dan moves the phone mic away from his mouth so Phil can’t hear him shakily sigh.

“Uh, no, I’m-it’s fine, I’m good.” He attempts to sound upbeat, but knows he failed miserably when Phil responds.

“Dan, you don’t sound fine. I know you better than you give me credit for,” and now Dan feels guilty because Phil’s tone sounds disheartened, as if he thinks that Dan thinks Phil doesn’t pay attention or listen to Dan as attentively as he does.

“N-Phil,” he sighs into the phone this time, “it’s got nothing to do with that,” how is he supposed to go about telling Phil that he was hoping Phil would drop the subject without questioning it? He does that with other subjects, like his parents, why won’t he let this minor thing go?

And since he’s seemingly not going to let this go, how is he supposed to tell Phil that he’s scared of the noises echoing through his empty house without sound like he’s a ten year old being left alone for the first time?

“Dan, what is it? You can tell me, it’s okay,” the tone that Phil uses suggests that he’s speaking about more than just Dan’s issue at that moment, and that scares Dan a bit.

“It’s just…I don’t want to sound like a child, but I’m, well, I’m kinda scared?” he mumbles. He hopes Phil heard and understood what he said because he really doesn’t want to repeat it, as it’s sort of embarrassing for him.

“Aw Dan,” Phil coos, “what are you scared of?” he sounds like he’s asking a genuine question, not mocking at all.

Dan inhales deeply and huffs. “I’m scared of the trees, the way they make that scratchy noise when the wind blows? I don’t know, it’s stupid, forget it.” Dan regrets calling Phil at all, because this definitely is a reminder of how young Dan really is, how he still has some maturing to do. He’s nervous that Phil won’t want some stupid kid at his party with his older friends; he’s nervous Phil will revoke his invitation to his party, therefore revoking his offer to let Dan stay with him for the next week.

Those thoughts only take a second to form, but suddenly they’re manifesting into a continuous self-deprecating, destructive thought process.

_‘You’re not good enough to have a friend like Phil, Dan.’_

_‘Ha! You thought he’d stay your friend? You’re lucky he’s been here for this long, you’re so fucking pathetic.’_

_‘You’re so dispensable, he doesn’t need you.’_

_‘Useless.’_

_‘You’re such a faggoty fairy. Ya can’t even stay alone in your house by yourself? Fuck sake, Daniel, grow the fuck up.’_

That last one he heard in his father’s voice.

He can’t breathe.

He can’t hear anything but a loud buzzing noise.

His vision is fuzzy; there are holes in his vision of mostly black, little glimpses of his room.

He can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe.

He’s gasping, choking.

Vaguely, he’s aware that he’s sobbing, but he’s completely oblivious to the very nervous person on the other side of the phone, desperately calling out his name over and over and over. He can’t hear the person attempting to get him to breathe. The buzzing is so loud, muting any and all noise.

He needs desperately to calm down, but he can’t calm down not with his thoughts coming at him faster than he can fully process.

The horrible thoughts are whirring around in his head, saying more horrible things. But it’s not even what they’re saying anymore; the speed at which they’re forming are nauseating.

One thought that seems to be on a constant repeat is that there is no air, there isn’t enough air there will never be enough air. He can’t get a deep breath, he can’t hold it for long. He’s so scared, he feels like he’s going to pass out; it’s happened before.

He’s so dizzy, the room seems to be moving every which way if he shifts his eyes. His vision is almost completely black.

There’s still no air.

_I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t breathe I can’t I can’t I-_

~~~

Phil knows what’s happening and he feels so helpless that he isn’t there with Dan to help him calm down.

Ever since he witnessed him having a panic attack in his lounge, he had done extensive research on how to help him if he ever finds himself in that situation again.

He knows that you’re not supposed to leave them alone, he knows now that you’re really not supposed to touch them, he knows that you’re supposed to try and help them regulate their breathing.

But all that doesn’t seem to matter if it’s over the phone.

Initially, he doesn’t realise Dan’s actually panicking. He just thought he was breathing weirdly, maybe trying not to cry. But as the seconds ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that Dan is having a full out panic attack.

Hearing Dan hyperventilate is so scary, because he knows, he just  _knows_ there’s nothing, really, he can do at this point, but he attempts to get Dan to hear him anyway.

“Dan? Dan can you hear me? Dan? Dan you need to breathe, okay? You can breathe, there’s a lot of air. Dan? Dan?” and he attempted to get Dan to hear him for another five minutes because he fears that Dan will pass out if he doesn’t start regulating his breathing.

His fears were realised only seconds later, when the line suddenly silences. He hears slight scratching, like the phone’s been dropped. He knows Dan passed out, but the line is still active, and he doesn’t want to hang up because Dan might be scared when he regains consciousness.

So he waits.

~~~

Dan feels disoriented when he opens his eyes, but luckily not for long. He’s staring at the ceiling and for some reason laying on his back makes him dizzy (he needs to see a neurologist, maybe, as he has frequent headaches, averaging a migraine-headache at least once a month, and gets nauseously dizzy if he lays on his back for too long) so he shifts to his right side. He grumbles a bit as he does so, sighing at the realisation of a minor headache.

He hears a faint call of his name and furrows his brows. Then he remembers that he was on a phone call with Phil, and quickly searches and retrieves his phone.

“Hey…Phil?” to his own ears, he sounds groggy. He knows he has panic attacks and that he will occasionally pass out from one, and that sometimes it’ll be for a few seconds or for a few hours. He doesn’t know how long this time, but he’s hyper aware of how dark it is outside, much darker than it was before.

“Hey…how’re you feeling?” Phil sounds nervous yet relieved, and Dan’s again attacked with guilty feelings because not only had he made his friend sit through that episode, but he had also made him wait on the phone.

“I’m fine, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out like that…you didn’t have to stay on the phone,” it’s really subtle, but he’s trying to ask Phil why he waited on the phone instead of hanging up without actually asking as that sounds both peculiar and pathetic.

Phil seems to have picked up on the subtly though.

“Dan, please don’t apologise, it wasn’t your fault. You’re not a burden, it wasn’t a big deal to wait, and I wanted to make sure you were okay…you were out for almost three hours, y’know.”

Dan wants to be shocked, but he’s really not. He’s been out for longer.

“Oh, alright then.” He doesn’t know what else to really say.

“So…as you were saying, y’know, three hours ago…you said you were scared of the trees…? Like, the noises they make when it’s windy…?” Phil’s tone is curious, but worried.

Dan has to take a deep breath and tell himself not to panic, because he knows that there’s potential for a repeat of what happened.

“I just…I don’t know, yeah, I am.” He’s so fucking nervous, he doesn’t want Phil to think any less of him, but really, did Phil ever think highly of him?

“That’s okay, Dan. Everyone has their fears, and just because some may find it silly or they don’t understand why does not mean they aren’t valid to you…” he sounds like he’s reading from a crappy inspirational website, but it makes Dan feel a little better knowing he didn’t just outright laugh at him.

“Huh, yeah. But it isn’t really valid if-”

“Dan,” Phil cuts him off, sounding slightly frustrated with the younger one. “Are you afraid of trees and the sound they make on windy nights?”

“…yes?” Dan’s confusion is dripping from his answer.

“Then it’s valid. No ‘ifs,’ no ‘buts.’ If the fear is real for you, then it’s a valid fear, no matter how that fear became instilled in you.”

“Phil, you sound like a shitty inspirational speaker,” Dan can’t help but comment, giggling a bit.

“Yeah, well, cliché, shitty inspirational speaker or not, it’s still the truth.”

Dan’s always been told that his fears are stupid; he’s always been laughed at, even by friends, when he expresses a fear that seems childish and silly. Hearing Phil tell him that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to really explain it…it makes him feel fuzzy and warm. It feels really fucking good to not be laughed at and to be understood.

“Thanks, Phil,” his voice is small and quiet. “I don’t think…I don’t think you understand how much your understanding means to me.” He has to stop there as he can feel the tears forming.

The silence coming from the other end of the phone worries him. He grabs for his stuffed bear that he’s had since he was born and starts to fiddle with it. He does that whenever he’s too nervous or worried. He cuddles with it when he gets scared at night, which is what he ended up doing last night.

“Phil? Did I…say something wrong?” He’s really nervous now, as Phil hasn’t said anything. He’s scared he overstepped an line in their friendship, sharing something that Phil might deem as too personal. Maybe he made Phil feel uncomfortable.

“Oh, no, Dan. No, it’s just…what you said made me a little sad for you and I wasn’t-I’m not sure what to really say.” The sadness in Phil’s voice makes a tear fall.

“So,” Phil sounds like he’s trying to sound a little more upbeat, “were there other reasons you called, or did you just want someone to talk to until you could fall asleep?”

Dan smiles a little.

“Well, to tell you the truth…it was a bit of both. I’ve never-this is the first time I’m actually all alone in my house-”

“You’re alone?” Phil’s confused voice is almost comical.

“Well, yeah?” Dan’s sure his own voice is just as comically confused-sounding.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’re parents left.”

“Did I not tell you?”

“Uh, no, actually you didn’t.” Phil gives a little chuckle, but it’s not a real chuckle, it’s more forced to sound light and natural.

“Oh, well, yeah. They left on the sixteenth, on Wednesday. They’re gone for two weeks.”

Dan was sure he had told Phil about this, but then again, he wasn’t truly positive that he was going to go to Phil’s anyway, much less stay with him for a week. Telling Phil that they were going to be out and unaware of their son’s location for that amount of time would’ve made Phil feel bad if Dan ended up rejecting his offer.

“Oh…” there’s a slight hesitance to his voice, like he’s about to ask a question he knows will make Dan uncomfortable.

“So, your parents are kinda strict, aren’t they?” the tone Phil uses makes it seem more like a statement than a question.

“Yeah.” Dan answers, short and to the point. No reason to bullshit around but also no reason to give any more information.

“Hm, okay. Well, I’m probably gonna go now, seeing as I’ll see you tomorrow!” The excitement is real, but Dan can’t help but notice the sadness behind it.

Dan’s heartbeat suddenly rises, as he realises he’s going to be left alone again with no reason to keep Phil on the phone. He did say Dan could trust him, though…

“Phil?” Dan said with a trace amount of urgency.

Phil yawns, then asks, “yeah?”

“Can you…stay on the line with meuntilIfallasleep?” Dan tries not to let the last few words blend together, but it didn’t work, so he hopes against the odds that Phil managed to make it out. He really doesn’t want to repeat it again, because asking that is embarrassing enough for him. He knows, though, that Phil will probably want to know why Dan wants him to stay on the line, and the answer is just so super embarrassing he blushes thinking about it.

His hopes were squashed when a confused-laced voice asks, “what did you say?”

Dan sighs shallowly and quietly, bracing himself for the ridicule he’s about to endure.

“I asked if you could possibly, maybe…stay on the line? Until I fall asleep?” he’s blushing so hard and his cheeks are so hot he’s convinced he could cook an egg on them.

“Aww Dan, I could try? But…can I ask why? Like, you’re going to see me tomorrow and we can talk all you want,” Phil sounds so tired, but Dan really wants him to stay.

“It’s just…I’m scared, and when I get scared I like to surround myself with things that make me feel safe, which I don’t have a whole lot of. I mean, I have a teddy bear I’ve had my whole life and a blanket my mum crocheted for me as a baby that I sleep with when I’m scared, but that’s really it, and I like feeling as safe as I can.” He rushes that all out, but it’s definitely understandable.

“That’s adorable, Dan,” Phil sounds like he’s smiling. “But I don’t understand why you’d want me-oh,” Dan can hear Phil realising what he was getting at as Phil sighs out the last word. He can feel the blood rushing to his face. He must be the colour of a tomato by now.

“Yeah, um, yeah I can stay on the line, if you want me to.”

Dan’s relieved, but he feels more than slightly guilty about this as he doesn’t want to burden Phil. But for once, he lets himself be selfish.

“Yeah, I would very much appreciate if you could.”

“Sure, I can do that for you.” If Dan didn’t know any better, he would say the tone Phil uses sounds an awful lot like an affectionate tone.

“What do you want me to do, though? Do you want to just talk and talk and talk until one of us falls asleep?”

Dan thinks a little bit then remembers one night a few weeks ago…

“Hey, remember that one time I woke you up after I had a…a pretty horrific nightmare?” Dan blushes, hating bringing it up.

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, well…do you remember how you helped me?” Dan really, really wants Phil to help him like that again. The sounds Phil can make are such blessings to his ears.

“…you want me to sing to you?” Phil sounds perplexed, as if Dan couldn’t find his baritone voice mixed with the soft volume the most pleasing song to have ever graced his ears.

“Believe it or not, I would absolutely love it if you could sing to me again, yes.” Dan’s blush never left, but he’s sure he looks like an overripe tomato; his face feels like the bottom of his laptop, it’s so hot.

“O-okay, then. What, um…what do you want me to sing?” Phil sounds flustered, making Dan feel a little better that he’s not the only one feeling bit embarrassed.

“Honestly? I don’t know, just…sing something, anything really.” Dan cannot believe how childish he sounds, or that he’s asking Phil to sing him to sleep. He always enjoyed when his mother would read to him or make up her own stories until he fell asleep. Occasionally when he woke up with a horrible nightmare, she’d sing to him. He hasn’t told Phil those things, and he supposes that’s why he feels so safe. Phil reminds him of better, happier, safer times.

“I’m kinda stumped over what to sing…I mean, I could sing an MCR song?”

Dan almost says yes, but he’s more than sure he’ll start crying again if he hears any song of My Chemical Romance’s being sung to him, especially by a voice so soothing.

“Um, how about a Radiohead song?”

“Hate to break it to you, but…” he hears Phil take a deep breath, exhaling as he speaks, “I don’t like Radiohead.”

Dan’s jaw drops open.

“WHAT?! How can you  _not like Radiohead_?” He knows he sounds overly offended, but c’mon. Radiohead is one of the best bands out there.

“Eh, it’s a long story I don’t want to bother you with right now,” Phil sounds regretful, and Dan chooses not to press any further.

“Okay then. Um…” he knows so many artists and bands, yet none really sound appealing at the moment. Phil’s voice is the only thing he wants to listen to, and he doesn’t really care what song it is anymore.

“Just…just sing something, please?” Dan almost cringes at how desperate he sounds.

“Okay… _twinkle, twinkle, little-_ ”

“Don’t you fucking dare continue that.”

“You did say ‘sing something,’” the smirk Phil is sure to be sporting is audible through the phone.

Dan sighs dramatically and flings himself onto his bed, wrapping himself up in his duvet.

“Phil, can you please sing me a non-childish song? Just…sing me your favourite song.”

“My…my favourite song?” Phil asks, sounding nervous.

“I mean, if you don’t want to that’s okay, I just-I want you to sing something, but I don’t want you to sing just  _anything_ , y’know?” he knows he sounds like such a child, but he wants what he wants and since Phil doesn’t sound upset or mad with him, he’s going to continue to request childish things.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s weird, like. There are literally hundreds of thousands of songs out there, yet I can’t find a song to sing.”

Dan’s suddenly struck with a song that he wants to hear in Phil’s voice, but there are no lyrics; he would have to hum it. He’s not sure Phil would go along with it, or if he even knows that this is the song’s title, but it’s what he wants to hear.

“Do you know Tifa’s theme from Final Fantasy VII?” Dan bites his lip. He knows Phil likes that game, so he hopes that he also knows the names of the songs that are played throughout it.

“Of course,” Phil said fondly.

Dan smiles when he asks, “Do you think you could hum it?”

Phil sighs dramatically. “Yeah, I could hum it for you.” He draws out the vowels, making Dan smile more.

“Thank you, Phil.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow.” Phil sounds excited, which makes Dan excited that he’s looking forward to this visit as much as he himself is.

Dan smiles even wider.

“Tomorrow.”

~~~

He got up at five a.m., both exhausted from restless sleep and excited about being with Phil again. He sighs, really wanting to just climb back into his warm bed, maybe grab a few more minutes of sleep. But he knows he has to get up now, as he has to take a shower and dry and straighten his hair, which can take him up to an hour. Straightening his hair is the only thing he refuses to give up, no matter how many times his father mutters a “fucking fairy” every time he passes by whilst Dan straightens his hair.

The actual washing up he does only takes about five minutes (he was able to pull out his “feminine” smelling shower gels, so he smells like lavender), but he loves standing in the water and letting it run over his back, even if it can be painful at times, like it is now. He was almost able to forget the beatings he endured a few nights ago, but the memories never really leave him.

He gets out half an hour later, grabbing the fluffy white towels he hides in his closet under a bunch of “manly man” stuff, and wraps the longer one around his waist. He uses the smaller one to ruffle through his hair a few times, not wanting to use the dryer for very long as it will cause more damage than he already has.

The hair drying and straightening takes up another forty five minutes. Once he’s sure his body is completely dry, he throws on a pair of starred pants, his favourite black skinnies, a long sleeved black jumper with spikes on the shoulders, black socks, and black shoes. He’s aware he looks a little depressing, with his coffee coloured hair and matching eyes to complete his ensemble, but he just loves the colour black.

He stupidly left all his packing to the last minute, so he grabs a gym bag and starts shoving various clothing items into it, including a few pairs of jeans, pants, socks, and shirts (all long sleeved, as he still has faded finger shaped bruises littering his lower arms). He can do some laundry at Phil’s, right? He hopes so. He threw in a lightweight hoodie, his fuzzy hat and mittens, and a winter-y jacket just in case, as the weather can be unreliable. He almost forgets to grab his straightener, but at the last second grabs it off of his bedside table and shoves it into the bag as well.

He looks around his room, then stares longingly at Bear. He doesn’t really want to bring him with, in case Phil sees him and makes fun of him for being so childish, but he remembers how he can’t really sleep without him, so he grabs him and tucks him as neatly into the bag as possible, then carefully zips it shut.

He triple checks that he has everything he needs, including his wallet, iPhone, iPod, laptop, and chargers. He grabs a water bottle and a granola bar, and heads out.

~~~

He takes the trains up this time, thanking the universe that he was able to catch a train at each station. He should have ordered the tickets like he used to when he’d go and visit Aimee, but doing so requires you know what you’re doing at least five days in advance, and this trip was practically a last minute decision.

He’s glad he charged his laptop and his iPod, or he would’ve been extraordinarily bored on the way up. He briefly wonders how he entertained himself for the cab drive (drives? How many cabs did it take to get him up to Manchester? He doesn’t know.). If he was as drunk as he believes he was, he must’ve annoyed/angered the driver(s).

The hours pass by quickly thanks to his travel playlist and being able to browse through Tumblr and Reddit, even though the wifi was sketchy.

All the same, the hours pass by rather slow due to him looking forward to seeing Phil again and checking the time every few minutes.

Phil asked him to catch a cab over because he doesn’t own a car, and he didn’t want to meet Dan at the station because crowds make him nervous, so Dan’s on his own. Luckily, though, he’s used to how this all works, as he had made this trip so often before.

He gets a cab almost straight away, which he finds to be miraculous, especially with about five other people standing around attempting to catch a cab.

The ride is about ten minutes long, all of which was spent in awkward conversation with his driver.

When he arrives at the building, he’s quick to pay the driver (“Keep the change!”) and leaves the cab.

He takes a moment to appreciate the aesthetics of the building. He feels a bit nostalgic that quickly turns into longing for the past; he doesn’t like thinking about her, but he misses Aimee. A lot. And being in front of the building that used to lead to her home, knowing he’s actually going to the apartment she lived in, is suddenly really, really hard for him. He’s glad it no longer looks like her exact apartment, with all of her furniture and décor gone, replaced with Phil’s belongings; it also got a complete remake, with new appliances and flooring. At least, that’s how he remembers it. He hopes that it will still look completely different, or he’s not going to be able to stay there.

He walks into the building, almost taking the stairs but then remembers that he’s out of shape and opts for the lift instead.

The lift has always made Dan feel a bit queasy, especially when he’s going so high up. He tried the stairs once, but didn’t even make it halfway before becoming exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, he didn’t have enough energy to drag himself over to the lift, so he had to ask Aimee to help him up. As if that hadn’t embarrassed him enough, when she tried to help lift him, his legs gave out, and sent them down half a dozen steps. Luckily they both only walked away with a few scrapes and bruises, nothing permanent. Dan vowed to never take the stairs again until he was fit enough.

As that little memory floats through Dan’s head, his heart squeezes a bit at Aimee’s memory. Fuck, he wishes she were still here.

When the lift finally stops, he walks out and gets a little dizzy from déjà vu. It’s as if all the memories he has of walking through the lift doors converge into one. He has to lean against the wall to catch his balance. He closes his eyes and gives his head a shake, reminding himself who he’s actually meeting.

It takes a minute, but he eventually he feels okay again. He heads towards the door, noting that it’s now just a plain, white paint, pine door. Before, it was a darkly stained mahogany door, same as all the others on this level. It sticks out like a sore thumb.

Dan goes to knock on it, but is stopped short when the door swings open. He’s startled as he comes face-to-face with Phil, who looks equally as startled.

“Oh my god, hey Dan!” Phil said as a smile breaks out onto his face.

He makes a move to hug Dan, but seems to remember Dan’s discomfort towards touch, so he retreats his arms back to his sides. Dan, surprising himself, feels disappointed at this. So he reaches out to Phil, indicating that, yes, he would like a hug please.

Phil’s smile brightens as he extends and folds his arms around his shoulders after running a hand over the back of Dan’s head. He immediately feels comforted by the affection, and after dropping his belongings, he wraps his arms tightly around Phil’s waist, laying his head on his shoulder.

They stand like that for probably too long for people who are only meeting in person for the second time, but neither seem to care. After all, they experienced a hell of a lot more on their very first meeting than most people do in a year’s worth of friendship.

When they finally pull away from each other (albeit slightly reluctantly on Dan’s part; he was really enjoying how it felt to be properly hugged), Phil grabs his bag and rucksack and tells Dan to follow him in.

“Oh, and please shut and lock the door behind you!” He said almost mockingly, but in a friendly way more than a malicious way.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Dan winks, knowing Phil can’t see him but he does it almost instinctively anyway.

He locks both the deadbolt and the normal lock and then stands in the entryway awkwardly, not knowing what he’s supposed to do. Is he supposed to take his shoes off? Where does he put his jacket?  Can he just sit down, or would that be rude without an invitation to do so?

Phil walks back in and giggles a bit at seeing Dan just standing there.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” He asks in a slightly sarcastic tone, unaware of Dan’s discomfort.

“Um, well…I don’t really know what I’m allowed to do?” Dan feels his face getting hot, and he mentally curses at himself for being so stupid.

He watches as Phil’s face goes from slightly amused to realisation.

“Dan, from now until you leave this is your home just as much as mine. You can do whatever you want-well, don’t go breaking down my door again, but you know what I mean.” He chuckles at his last statement, causing Dan’s blush to deepen.

“There’s a coat rack on over the top of the door,” Phil points behind him. “So, obviously that’s where your jacket goes. I don’t really care if you leave your shoes on or take them off,” he smiles gently at Dan, then turns and walks over to the recliner and stands by it.

“You can take a seat wherever you like, I’m not too picky, just don’t sit in this,” he pats the recliner, then slowly sits down in it.

Dan’s befuddled at the lack of enthusiasm on Phil’s part that he’s here. He sounded so excited on the phone the past few days, and now… it’s as if Dan’s just another guest to him.

If Dan were being honest with himself, he’d say he was a bit hurt by this. Which is stupid, he thinks, as he is only a friend to Phil. They’ve only known each other for a few months.

Dan hangs up his jacket and slips his shoes off, then perches himself on the edge of the sofa. He’s sitting so properly he’s uncomfortable, which seems fitting as this entire encounter since they left the hallway has just been uncomfortable.

“So…” Dan attempts a start to a conversation, realising too late he doesn’t know what to talk about. It wasn’t this awkward when they were skyping or calling. Why is it so awkward now?

He hears Phil laugh a little, making Dan feel self-conscious. Was he laughing at the way he was sitting? How he tried and failed to make conversation? Was Phil laughing at how he looked overall?

“Dan, you look so damn uncomfortable. Relax a bit, yeah?”

He glances over to Phil to see him smiling at him, then gives a small smirk back.

“Alright,” Dan said as he sits with his back against the arm of the sofa, facing Phil. He stretches his legs out a bit in front of him, noticing that he has to bend them slightly now in order for them to fit. He crosses his arms and tilts his head to the right so it’s laying on the back of the sofa. Using just his eyes, he looks around at the ceiling, which is quite boring. It’s just a vast expansion of white.

“So Dan,” the volume of Phil’s voice startles Dan, making him jump.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Dan can hear him attempting not to laugh.

“‘S all right.”

“How was your ride up? I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you so early.” Phil tilts his head a little to the right as he said this. Like he’s teasing Dan for not texting or calling or alerting Phil in any way as to when he was leaving, which Dan just now realises that he did not, in fact, inform Phil he was leaving, nor that he had arrived.

“Oh my  fucking-I’m sorry I forgot, I’m so sor-”

“Dan,” Phil cuts him off by firmly yet gently saying his name. “It’s okay, I just got a little worried that you weren’t coming up today after all, as you never did answer back any of my texts.”

Dan’s eyes must’ve widened comically, as Phil starts to laugh, his tongue pointing out on the right side. That makes Dan smile, as Phil normally covers his mouth when he laughs like that. His smile quickly leaves though, as he remembers his phone.

“I’m so sorry, my phone must’ve been shut off,” he leans to the right to get his phone out from his left pocket, seeing that yes, his phone was off the entire time. Meaning he probably missed some calls from more than just Phil.

“I’ll, um, I’ll b-be right back,” he stutters a bit as he turns his phone on and leaves Phil’s apartment, not looking behind him.

It takes about three minutes, but as his phones buzzes with the multiple missed calls and unanswered texts, his heart rate speeds up.

He missed only one phone call and left three texts go unanswered from Phil, but there’s a total of fifteen missed calls from his mum and dad combined, the last one being only two minutes ago. He has to force himself to take deep breaths to keep himself from panicking.

His phone buzzes in his hand again, alerting him that someone’s calling.

 _Mum,_ the ID reads.

He’s so scared but he has to pick up.

“H-hello?” he answers shakily.

“Daniel James Howell what have we told you about leaving your phone off?” She doesn’t sound as mad as he was expecting, but she’s definitely not happy.

“You tell me not to leave it off?” he obediently answers, though his voice goes up a bit at the end, making it sound like a question.

“Exactly. You’re lucky we’re relaxing on a beach and the weather’s nice or I’d be yelling at you, and you know I don’t like to do that.” Every now and then the mother he used to know peaks through the veil, making him yearn for her.

“I know,” he said, because he does know. His father doesn’t really give two shits and seems to take pleasure from yelling at him, especially when they’re in public, but his mother, even when pissed and angry, never really likes to raise her voice at him.

“Good. Now, why aren’t you at work today?” she sounds calm, but Dan knows that if he could see her, her eyes would be alight with furry.

“Sir let me have my break early, but I am here.” he lies. It’s also a huge risk he’s taking, as she’s obviously spoken to Sir if she knew he wasn’t there. He hates saying ‘sir,’ but that’s what he was told to call him.

He had begged his boss to not tell his parents that he was shutting down the restaurant for a week, as he knew it would deeply anger his father. Everything when it didn’t follow his schedule would deeply anger his father.

“That’s what he said, I was just testing you to be sure you are actually there.”

He blows out the air he hadn’t known he was holding.

“Alright, well, you better have your phone on from now on, or your father will be calling up your boss at the restaurant to be sure you’re there.” She said this in such a way that makes him think she knows that the restaurant is shut down.

“Yes, ma’am, I will always have my phone on.” He said with pseudo confidence.

She hangs up without another word and Dan just stares at his phone, wondering if he’d ever get his loving mum back.

~~~

Dan slams down his Wii remote, groaning. He can’t believe he fell off Rainbow Road. Again.

“Fucking shit!”

Phil laughs at his misfortune and pauses the game. He checks his watch and gasps a bit dramatically.

“Dan! You’ve been here for eight hours, now. Aren’t you hungry?”

As if on cue, Dan’s stomach growls loudly, making Phil laugh with his tongue sticking out the side again. Dan laughs along with him, albeit whilst a bit embarrassed.

“Well, I guess that’s your answer then.” In the fourteen hours he’s been awake, he’s only eaten that granola bar from this morning. He doesn’t tell Phil, but he’s used to that being the only thing he’ll eat in a day.

“Do you like sushi?”

Dan pulls a face. He doesn’t like the idea of eating raw fish and rice.

“I’ll take that as a no?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, because I haven’t even tried it, but, like. Dude, it’s raw fish. You eat raw fish.”

Phil acts as if Dan has insulted his mother.

“How dare you.” Phil said accusingly, with his hand over his heart.

Dan can’t help but laugh loudly.

“You know you have to try it now, right? I cannot allow you to just assume the worst about one of the best foods known to man.”

Dan rolls his eyes.

“Phil, raw fish, rice, and what? Seaweed? How is that even appetizing?”

Now Phil rolls his eyes and sighs overdramatically.

“Daaaaan, it’s a lot more than just fish, rice, and seaweed. They put a lot of different flavours into them. And you can add ginger, soy sauce, wasabi. There’s a bunch of things, just trust me. Wait, you aren’t allergic to any foods, right?”

Dan furrows his brow a bit before he answers.

“No? At least, I don’t believe I am. I haven’t exactly tried a whole lot of different types of food before.” He thinks the tone he used inferred too much. The look on Phil’s face confirms that thought.

“Oh,” Phil sounds concerned again, but doesn’t comment anymore on the subject.

“My mum’s highly allergic to wasabi, so I just, y’know, thought I’d ask.” He attempts a smile.

“I have tried those dried peas with wasabi, so I know I’m not allergic to that,” he offers.

Phil sighs, then says, “Well, okay then. Throw your shoes on and let’s go so you can try sushi. I want to see your face when you realise how good it is.”

As Dan’s tying up his shoes, he begins to have a sneaking suspicion that Phil’s not going to let him not answer questions about his home life.

~~~

Turned out Phil was right. Sushi is really, really delicious.

Phil didn’t do the whole “I told you so” routine, he seemed to only be happy that Dan found a new food to enjoy.

Dan and Phil had talked a whole lot, and found they had way more in common than Dan had ever expected. Only recently, like within the past month, have they begun talking to each other at least once a day over the phone, but they didn’t really keep on the line for too long, maybe an hour at most. Dan had always yearned to stay on longer, to talk to him more, but thought better of it as Phil obviously has other friends to talk to. Even spoke about a best friend named Ian a couple times. So getting to sit down in a sushi bar whilst talking to Phil for almost four hours was probably the best thing to happen in a long while and, for the first time that day, he was genuinely excited to be spending a whole week with Phil.

It’s only ten o’clock, but Dan’s exceedingly tired, having been up for seventeen hours now. He didn’t even think about sleeping arrangements until this very second.

He watches as Phil yawns, then proceeds to copy him.

“Hey, Phil? Where am I sleeping tonight?” Dan inquires.

“My sofa’s a pull out, so if it’s not too uncomfortable, you get to sleep there.” He smiles at Dan.

Dan can’t help but to smile back.

“Yeah, that should be okay. I’m kinda tired now, though? So, how do I set this thing up?” Dan’s rushing to get to sleep, even though he sort of never wants the day to end.

Phil smirks as he replies.

“Tired already, are you? How are you ever going to make it tomorrow? We stay up until like, three or four a.m. y’know.”

Dan shrugs.

“I dunno,” he answers shortly, yawning again.

“Okay, then. Um, how about you go get dressed in the bathroom and I’ll go grab my extra pillows, sheets, and duvet. You can help me pull the stupid thing out when you come back, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Dan goes over to his duffle bag as Phil goes to get the bedding, looking through it for his sleepy clothes, only to quickly remember that he didn’t even think to grab pajama bottoms, or even a sleep shirt, as he normally sleeps in just his boxers.

 _I thought to grab my fucking child toy, but I didn’t think about grabbing sleeping attire, fucking brilliant._  He’s going to have to sleep in his jeans and his spiky jumper, which is going to be hellishly uncomfortable.

He stands around awkwardly, waiting for Phil to come back so they can set up the pull out mattress.

Phil comes back in with arms full of bedding, which he plops down onto his recliner. He turns around a starts as he sees Dan, apparently not expecting to see him still standing there.

“You remember where the bathroom is, right?”

Dan rolls his eyes, annoyed at the question.

“Yeah, I do Phil. I was just in such a fucking hurry this morning that I forgot to pack fucking pajamas.” He’s more annoyed at his own stupidity and forgetfulness.

“Oh,” Phil bites his lip.

“Would you like to, I don’t know, borrow some of mine?” Phil blushes at his suggestion, flushing bright red.

Dan also blushes, but sheepishly answers with a ‘yes, please.’

“Alright. Which would be better for you: pj bottoms or shorts? And do you need a shirt, too?” Phil’s immediate embarrassment seems to have passed.

Lucky him.

“Uh, shorts I suppose. And um, yeah if you don’t mind lending one to me.” Dan feels so embarrassed over the forgotten clothing. Not to mention he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through the night with the extra clothing on anyway, as when he does where bottoms and a top, he ends up taking them off during the night half asleep.

“Alright then, I’ll be right back,” he smiles softly at Dan.

Dan takes a moment to assess what Phil has brought out for him to use as bedding, laughing quietly at the brightly coloured sheets and duvet. They’re triangles that are mainly a few different blues, but have some white and green mixed in. The sheets are bright purple, the pillowcases are a weird, sage colour. He reaches out to feel the fabric and finds that’s it’s not as scratchy as it looks, which he’s thankful for. The sheets are cotton and soft. He picks up the pillows and finds they’re nice and fluffy, which he loves.

“Here y’ go!” Phil’s voice startles him a bit, but the only reaction he has is internal. He hands Dan the shorts and shirt, then says, “I hope they’re alright. They’re clean and haven’t actually been worn yet,” Phil smiles.

Dan would never say this out loud, but he’s kind of disappointed that they haven’t been worn yet.

“So, how about we get this pull out ready, yeah? We’ll just stack the cushions and such up against the wall over there,” he points to the wall next to the giant windowed-doors, which are, thankfully, covered by curtains.

“Okay,” Dan answers simply, then begins removing said cushions.

After the cushions are removed, Phil instructs Dan on how to pull the mattress out.

“Phil, wait,” Dan said rather abruptly.

“What?”

“Phil, your coffee table.” He points to the coffee table that’s not even a metre away from the sofa.

Phil slaps his face with his hand, pulling it down his face making his eye look droopy.

“Ugh, I cannot believe I almost forgot about that,” Phil sighs, then looks around.

“Um, I guess we can just lean it against the wall over there,” Phil points to the wall bit behind the recliner.

“Alright then,” is all Dan can think to say.

The table is relatively easy to move. Dan was expecting it to be a little heavier as the top is all glass and the rest was pure stainless steel, but it turned out okay. He was worried he’d accidentally break it, but Phil assured him that it’s a pretty sturdy table.

“Okay,  _now_  we pull the mattress out,” Phil chuckles.

 _Always chuckling,_  Dan thinks. It’s rare for him to hear Phil truly laugh, but he’s already heard it a few times today, and he’s already missing it.

“Okay, so see the little strap thing in the corner?” Phil tugs at the one nearest him to show Dan what he’s talking about.

“Yeah.”

“Just pull it on the count of three. One, two, three!”

They both yank on the tabs, making the mattress pop out.

“Alrighty then. That was easy, ay?” Phil huffs out a laugh.

“Yep.” Dan nods.

“So, do you need help with putting the bedding on, or will you be okay on your own?”

Dan rolls his eyes, and Phil laughs.

“I think I can put on fucking  _bedding_ on my own, Phil. But thanks for the offer,” he said the last part sincerely.

“Okay, well, I’m off to bed, then. If you need anything, my room’s the last door on the right,” Phil smiles sleepily and wishes Dan a goodnight.

And suddenly Dan’s alone, staring at the mattress.

It takes him about two minutes to ready his bed and another minute to be dressed. He plops himself down, and covers himself with the sheet and duvet, feeling quite comfy. He sneaks in Bear under the covers.

For the first time in over a year, Dan feels safe falling asleep.

~~~

He wakes up well rested for the first time in years. He’s still in the same position he fell asleep in, in fact: on his right side, wrapped up like a burrito, cuddling Bear, and, most surprisingly, still clothed.

He grabs around for his phone that he had set on the arm of the couch to check the time.

_8:17_

_I got a full eight hours’ sleep,_  he thinks.

He hasn’t had eight hours of sleep in…he actually doesn’t remember the last time he got this much sleep.

He sits up and stretches, reaching his hands up to the ceiling, stretching his back and arms. He stands up and stretches his legs.

He smiles.  _I’m so glad I came up here._

He looks around to find he’s the first one up. Whilst that isn’t a rare thing, in fact he never fails to be the first one up in his household, he feels a bit uneasy at being the first one up in Phil’s house. Although, now that he thinks about it, he’d probably feel just as, if not more than, uneasy if Phil had been the first one up, so he shrugs the feeling off.

The shirt Phil had given him was oversized and thin and cotton, the shorts were thicker and reached about four inches above his knee and were also cotton. He couldn’t have picked better sleeping attire out for himself if he tried. The only issue he has with it is that the shirt is short sleeved, meaning if Phil were to wander in right now he’d be able to see the bruises littering his arms.

He quickly goes to his bag and grabs a bright blue jumper that has a perceived fluffy, white, horned creature on the front, and ‘DROP DEAD’ in large, white, dripping lettering on the back. He’s never gotten a chance to wear this jumper until today, because his father would’ve just destroyed it. All of the jumpers and skinnies he shoved into his bag are ones he grabbed from his ‘hidden stash’ of clothing that, if found, would be burned or be torn beyond being wearable. Because his choice in clothing is ‘faggoty,’ as his father has told him countless times, yet he still buys them. He just also buys clothing that will also get the okay from his father. Even the colognes he has to hide, unless he wants to be unable to sit down for a week (again).

He then puts on his black skinny jeans from yesterday, spritzing a bit of the Gucci cologne in front of him then walking through the mist.

He grabs his straightener, dry shampoo, comb, and hairspray and goes into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

His hair curled a bit over night, and even though he really, really wants to shower, he decides he’d rather use the least amount of Phil’s things as possible whilst he’s here.

He plugs in his GHD straightener and places it carefully in the sink so he doesn’t burn anything.  He combs through his hair to get the knots out, then sprays his hair with dry shampoo. The instructions on the can say to wait about two or three minutes, then style as usual, so he waits the allotted time and then combs through his hair again, making sure there are no patches of unsightly white powder, then grabs his straightener and begins burning his hair into place. For once, he takes his time, making sure to get every last strand as straight as possible. He grabs his comb again and combs through it whilst spraying his hair with the hairspray (light hold and soft to the touch), holding it the recommended eight inches away from his head.

He looks in the mirror and is really, really happy. His hair decided to be cooperative today, and it looks as good as he’s ever seen it. He smiles at himself, then opens the door to exit the bathroom. As he’s doing so, however, he almost bumps into Phil, who looks like he’s just woken up.

Dan can’t help but observe Phil’s appearance. His inky hair is disheveled, he has a bit of stubble, he’s wearing the black-rimmed glasses that make Dan smirk a bit. He’s shirtless, and Dan has to force himself not to stare.

“Hey, good morning,” Dan said cheerily, too happy to even cringe at how much of a morning person he sounds like.

“Ugh, you’re not one of those bright and perky morning people are you?” Phil said teasingly in a gravelly voice, smiling sleepily at Dan. “Good morning to you too, Dan.”

“I’m not normally this happy, but today just feels…really good,” he smiles back at him. “Um, do you want me to make coffee or something?”

“It’s set on a timer so it should be going off soon,” Phil yawns a bit, still seeming like he needs more sleep. Dan can hear the coffee maker come to life, the smell of a fresh brew perfuming the air.

“See? Mugs are in the cabinet all the way to the left, sugar’s to the right of the coffee maker, creamer and milk are in the refrigerator,” Phil said, then goes into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Dan takes Phil up on his round-about offer and grabs both himself and Phil a mug. He puts Phil’s mug next to the maker, and takes the pot out and pours about half a mug, then adds two tablespoons of sugar to it. He mixes the two together until he’s sure the sugar has completely dissolved, then goes to the refrigerator and grabs the milk, making sure he wouldn’t be using the rest of it, and fills the rest of his mug up. Simple, but that’s how he likes it.

He’s again not sure where he’s allowed to sit; does Phil have a certain place he sits in in the morning? Will he get upset if Dan has taken it? So he ends up just leaning against the counter, slowly sipping the hot liquid.

He hears the bathroom door open, then a minute later he hears it close again, then yet another minute later he hears it reopen. Phil appears, completely put together and sans glasses, and Dan has the urge to scream because it had taken him almost forty minutes to look the way he does, but Phil did everything in one fucking minute and looks really fucking good.

As he glances at the clock, and sees it’s almost nine thirty, he thinks, _It’s too fucking early to feel like a piece of shit._  Just like that, his good mood has vanished, leaving him feeling envious, jealous, and slightly upset.

Phil quickly makes himself a mug of coffee, filling it almost all of the way up with coffee, adding four tablespoons of sugar and a splash of cream.

Dan’s alarmed at how fast Phil guzzles it down, seeing as it’s really, really hot, but Phil doesn’t even flinch.

“So,” Phil breaths out happily. “The party thing I’m having tonight starts at around eight, and I still need to go out and purchase a few things, but other than that we’ve got the day to ourselves. Oh! The other people I’ve invited are really nice, so you don’t’ need to worry about them.” He smiles at Dan.

Without any warning, Dan’s heartbeat speeds up rapidly as he thinks about all the strangers and names and faces, how crowded he’s going to feel.

Or might feel. He needs to ask a question first.

“About ‘them…’ how many people are coming?” He hates that he can hear his own nervousness.

Phil looks concerned, then worried.

“There’s going to be around fifteen to twenty people, so it’s going to be kinda cramped,” he seems to immediately register Dan’s panic in his face, as his eyes widen whilst he continues. “But my room is always off-limits, and there is a window you can open, so if you need a place to escape to, there’s…that. Or I guess you could leave the building and get actual fresh air, but…” Phil’s tripping over his words now, and he looks flustered, his pale skin slowly turning dark pink.

“ Phil Phil Phil Phil, it’s okay,” Dan gently places his hand on Phil’s upper arm,  “I just get nervous around a lot of people is all.” He smiles, small but genuine.

Phil gives him the same smile back.

“Oh, yeah! How’s your hand doing? Can I take a look?” Phil’s eager to change the subject, his tone startling Dan at just how enthusiastic he sounds. About his  _hand_  of all things.

Dan had almost forgotten about his hand injury until then. He had broken it when he illegally entered Phil’s home a few months back (damaging the door), but it was healed now. The only thing that indicated he had injured it are the small scars on his knuckles, but those aren’t exactly out of place on his body.

“Yeah, here,” Dan said, slightly confused at Phil’s sudden interest in his hand, and virtually handing his hand over to Phil.

He grabs it, inspecting it as if it’s a science experiment. Dan giggles at Phil’s expression, wide, curious eyes and slightly open mouth.

“Sorry, I have a freaky fascination with scars and stuff,” Phil states, dropping his hand and turning red again. He turns and grabs his keys.

“Welp, I’ve gotta run to the store to grab some booze and cups that won’t shatter if things get too outta hand, and snacks of course, so do you want to come with me on this boring journey?” Phil looks over to Dan, who’s pulling his sleeves over his hands and fiddles with the fabric.

“Phil, you left the shopping ‘til the last minute?” Dan’s almost in disbelief, but he has to remember that it is  _Phil_ , and Dan knows from past talks that Phil tends to leave practically everything until the very last minute (“What do you  _mean_  you’re just now buying a tux for your cousin’s wedding? It’s  _tomorrow._ ”).

Phil smiles guiltily, twirling his keys around his index finger.

“So are you coming with me or not, Dorko?”

Dan smiles at the use of Phil’s nickname for him. He got it after he had gone on about one of his favourite films ‘Donnie Darko’ for over half an hour, and Phil called him a dork and says, “I may as well just call you Dorko…because you’re a dork. And you get dorky when talking about Darko.” And Dan had rolled his eyes at the obvious explanation.

Dan had never had a proper nickname before, so even after hearing this one so often in Skype calls, texts, and phone calls, he was sure he’d ever, ever get tired of hearing it.

“Yeah, I’m coming with.”

~~~

Phil ended up buying, booze-wise, two litres of cider, four litres of vodka, and a litre of whiskey for his two friends that actually enjoy the stuff, and grabbed a few things for mixing purposes. At Dan’s insistence, he grabbed beer and wine coolers, as that’s what Dan’s going to drink if he ends up drinking at all. He ended up buying some soda as well, basic cola and lemon-lime flavours.

For snacks, there were bags of pretzels, Doritos (Cool Original, Tangy Cheese, and Chili Heatwave ), Frazzles, and Pringles.. He also grabbed a vegetable tray and fruit tray, again at Dan’s insistence. He planned on ordering pizza when the party was just getting started, so it was warm for his friends. He grabs a party pack of plastic cups, meaning there’s fifty cups. Dan made sure they’re recyclable before allowing Phil to buy them.

They’ve already unpacked everything, having put the alcohol in the freezer even though they both know none of it is going to be cold enough by tonight. The bags are sitting in the bowls they’re going to be dumped in later and are sitting on the counter.

They’ve still got six hours until the party’s set to go at eight. Dan’s sitting on the sofa whilst Phil is in his recliner, both  eating turkey, swiss, lettuce, and tomato on whole grain bread sandwiches, a la Phil.

Dan’s mind is wandering all over. He wants to know about the people who are attending, more than just “they’re good people,” but he doesn’t know how to ask that. How  _are_  you supposed to go about asking such a thing, without seeming skeptical or harsh?

Dan finishes his sandwich and waits for Phil to do the same before opening his mouth to ask anything.

“So…these friends of yours,” Dan awkwardly starts, cringing a bit at how his wording comes out. He sounds like one of those American sitcom dad stereotypes talking to their teenage daughters about their “rebellious” friends.

Phil gives him an amused look, but doesn’t offer up any help. Meaning, Dan has to trudge his way through this to get to the question.

“They’re, um. What do they do, exactly? Where do you know them from and how do you know that they’re good people?” Dan wants to slap himself at the last question. How would Phil  _not_  know whether or not his friends were good people or not?  

Phil can’t seem to help the laugh that spills out of him.

“Shut. Up. Philip.” Dan said as his cheeks start to turn red in embarrassment.

“Dan, you are just so… _awkward_  sometimes, y’know?”

Dan casts his eyes down towards the coffee table, ashamed. He’s always been awkward, and sometimes, like now, he really, really despises that part of him.

“Yeah,” Dan fake-laughs, “I’m aware.”

“So, what was it you wanted to know?” Phil said after he had stopped laughing, seemingly having forgotten in his laughing fit that Dan had already stated what he wanted to know.

Dan doesn’t want to repeat what his questions, though. He doesn’t want to sound more stupid than he already has.

He puts on his ‘everything’s okay I’m okay no need to ask otherwise even if it obvious I’m not okay’ smile, tight-lipped and closed.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” His voice is too casual, the words too obvious.

Phil looks at him for a long moment, and Dan’s stomach falls with worry that Phil will ask uncomfortable questions, yet his heart feels lighter at the chance of someone actually caring enough to keep asking.

His heart quickly feels heavy again, though, as Phil just curtly nods with a tight smile, not too different from his own.

“All right,” he said in a tone that is, again, too similar to Dan’s.

~~~

It’s only an hour and a half into the party and Dan desperately wants to leave.

It’s too crowded in this small apartment (Dan counted, there’s twenty nine people, and Phil said he’s still waiting on two late-comers). Phil only introduced Dan to the first five that showed up, as he was too busy answering the doors and socialising with the people already there to introduce him.

The first ones to show up seemed to be at the very beginning of a relationship, the brown, curly hair, green eyed male introduced as PJ, and his short, red hair, brown eyed date’s name is Marie. Phil had whispered to him, after pointing out the kitchen to them and telling them to ‘eat and drink whatever you’d like,’ that he hadn’t known PJ was bringing anyone. The next one was a tanned, dark haired and dark eyed man named Ian, Phil’s best friend of eight years, who had also brought along his girlfriend, Helena, of one year. The last one Phil introduced him to was a pale skinned, pale haired, and pale eyed girl named Leah, who, judging by the way he continues to notice her staring at him throughout the night, has taken a fancy to him. Unfortunately, for her at least, Dan has been attempting to steer clear of her, as she looks too much like Aimee.

It was all of her, really, that reminded him too much of her. Same pale, almost white blonde hair, same pale as the moon skin. Leah’s eyes were slightly darker than hers, however. Even Leah’s style was very reminiscent of Aimee. Her smile caught him completely off-guard, as it was almost identical to Aimee’s, same gap between the two front teeth and all.

His heart ached for her, and all he wanted to do was crawl into a dark hole and sleep.

Maybe it wasn’t Phil that stopped introducing him, he thinks. Maybe it was the ‘got-the-rug-pulled-out-from-under-him’ feeling he had that made him walk away from the door and continue to walk to Phil’s bedroom and lock himself in, and not that Phil hadn’t introduced him to the next person that rang the bell.

About half an hour in, and after Phil had made sure that it was okay with the last two people that still hadn’t arrived yet (he thinks, anyway) that it was all right with them to order the pizza, Phil ordered five large pizzas; one cheese, one pepperoni, one sausage, one with pepperoni, green bell peppers, and mushrooms, one pepperoni and mushrooms, and one Hawaiian (Dan has a suspicion that it was ordered mainly with him in mind, as that’s Dan’s favourite). He went to grab Dan (apparently he wasn’t as consumed in welcoming people in as Dan had thought, since he had noticed where Dan went off to), but he had to tell Phil three times that, no, he didn’t want to come out and eat right now, thanks for the offer though.

Forty five minutes in, Dan had finally emerged, and he started getting eyed by Leah straight away. No matter where Dan went to go in the now too small apartment, she seemed to follow. Her voice calling out to him is like nails on a chalkboard to his ears, grinding and grating and clawing at his eardrums.

Luckily, though, Phil snatched him up just as Leah was approaching him again, and dragged him to the kitchen for food. Dan grabbed a few slices of the Hawaiian and some vegetables from the tray. He took a cup and had filled it halfway with ice, then poured about half a wine cooler into it.

“That’s all you’re drinking?” Phil raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“Did you forget what happened the last time I drank?” Dan had said, wanting to get Phil off his case.

It worked, as Phil didn’t tease him about it anymore.

An hour in, after he’d eaten his food, he counted the people. It had been difficult, as everyone was pretty packed into the place like sardines, and then he had to add the three that were out on the deck, the one in the bathroom, the two out smoking, Dan had come up with twenty nine people.

“Phil, I thought you said only fifteen to twenty people!” Dan had said, thankful that it came out casual rather than the nerves he was feeling.

“Yeah, that’s how many people I was expecting,” Phil sighed. “I wasn’t expecting some of them to bring dates.” He glared pointedly, and as Dan turned around he saw PJ with Marie, and some other man with floppy sandy-blond hair who had his arm around the shoulders of a woman with light brown hair in a pixie cut.

“I presume neither of their dates were expected, then?”

“Nope. I didn’t even know Peej was interested in anyone, so the thought of him bringing a date was way off my radar. At least I knew Charlie was seeing Cara, but I had hoped that he would at least tell me that she was coming instead of just expecting me to know.” Phil sounded about as spent as he had looked, and it was only 21:07.

So he two new names to add to the two new faces.

Which leads to now, an hour and a half into this party, and him, PJ and Marie, a guy named Chris, Ian and Helena, and fucking Leah, who literally shoved PJ in order to be able to sit next to him.

They’re all up on the roof of the building, which Dan had come up here for further escape, not realising he was being followed by this group.

He just wanted peace, and he got stuck with possibly the noisiest and loudest drunks he’s ever met.

“So,” Leah manages to slur, splashing Dan with her cup of whatever-the-fuck. “How d’ya know Phil?” she draws out the ‘i.’

Dan sighs outwardly, not caring if he comes of rude. He doesn’t really want to answer this, especially not with someone as drunk as Leah, and, more specifically, especially not Leah.

He keeps his mouth shut as he takes his phone out and starts playing with it, blatantly ignoring her.

She’s too drunk to care though, as Dan finds out when she continues to ask questions he’s never going to answer.

After the tenth or twelfth unanswered question, she goes quiet, and Dan thinks that she’s finally gotten the not so subtle hint to leave him the fuck alone.

After a few minutes of relative quiet, the others making noises and laughing and talking, ignoring Dan and Leah,  her sloppily drinking and him wearing out his phone battery, she asks him yet another question.

“Hey, Danny boy?” she said in a sickly sweet manor, tripping over the ‘boy’ a bit. It makes him sick to his stomach, what she said. Yet another fucking thing about this girl that makes his heart yearn for Aimee.

“What?” he said harshly, not caring that she flinches just a bit.

“No need to be such a dick, y’know.”

Dan just rolls his eyes. He hates being rude to people, but he thought the constant avoidance throughout the night, along with ignoring her questions, was enough of a hint to leave him the hell alone.

“Look,” he said slowly so she can comprehend. “I just don’t want to talk to you, okay? I’m sure you’re nice, but I can’t stand to be around you, sorry.” He said this as nicely as possible, not missing the hurt that washes over her face.

“But-” she’s cut off by his phone ringing, and Dan’s answering it right away. Any excuse to avoid Leah and her words was ace in his book.

However, as he heard the answer to his ‘Hello,’ he wishes he hadn’t answered at all.

“Daniel, I need you to look for something,” his father’s voice responds, sounding eerily sober for once.

Dan’s immediately panicking. He’s not home, he’s not going to be able to find whatever it is his father wants.

He walks briskly away from the group, making sure no one follows him this time.

“Wh-what is it-”

“Don’t fucking stutter. It makes you sound retarded.”

Dan swallows roughly, his blood feeling cold as it pumps through his body. He’s so fucking scared.

“Go to the cabinet below the chopping board,” he pauses, presumably to allow time for him to go to the cabinet.

Dan pretends to be there, and clears his throat away from the phone to allow an, “Okay,” to come out, which sounded more casual than he was expecting.

“Are you there? In front of the cabinet below the chopping board?” he sounds almost smarmy, setting alarm bells off in Dan’s head.

“Yeah…?” this time he sounds just as wary as he feels.

“There’s no fucking cabinet below the chopping board you fucking retard. You’re not home, are you?” he shouts.

Dan’s face must be as pale as a sheet of paper; his heart is going double time, his blood running cold. He’s so fucking fucked, and he’s so, so terrified.

“Um-”

“I’m not a fucking dumbass like you, I know you’re not home. Your mother told me that your boss shut down the restaurant for the week. I guess I thought you’d still fucking listen to me, even without the job. How fucking stupid of me, then.  As soon as your mother and me get back, you’re getting fucking locked up.” With this, he hangs up.

Dan’s trembling so hard; he’s not sure how he manages to get back to Phil’s apartment, much less his room, without injury. He pushes and shoves people aside in order to get to it, and as soon as he’s in, he slams and thinks he locks the door shut, sliding down the door in a full fucking panic.

He’s breathing too quickly, he’s crying, he’s sweating. He hasn’t felt this terror in years.

He’s too hot, and he doesn’t realise he’s whipping off his jumper, just knows that he’s cooler, but not cool enough. He’s pulling at his hair, and stands up quickly to pace around the too-open room. His jeans are too constricting, and he manages to rip them off, after chucking his shoes off to fuck knows where. He yanks his jeans off his ankles, chucking them where the fuck ever. He’s pacing back and forth in just his boxers and one sock, pulling at his hair with one hand and biting the other.

He slinks back to the door, banging his back against it sliding down again, barely noticing the cool wood against his smoldering, sweaty back. He folds his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and buries his head in his knees. He can’t stop crying and he chokes on his sobs.

He’s as good as dead.

Getting locked up is the worst of the worst punishment used in the most extreme cases for him. He’s only experienced it twice, but it was enough to know he never, ever wanted it again. This punishment consisted of being locked up in the basement where it’s dark and dingy, the lights turned off unless someone was coming downstairs. His arms would be bound behind his back, naked except for boxers. He’s forced to soil himself, and gets maybe a small cup of water and a leaf of lettuce each day if he’s lucky. He is used as a punching bag, a whipping recipient. Once, when one of the rare times his father had his male friends over, one of them somehow stumbled upon Dan in his search of more beer. Instead of being shocked or disgusted, he looked at Dan like a starving dog looks at easy prey. He was ten, his screams were muffled, and his mother had pretended not to see the dried blood when she went down to collect him. He managed to stay clear of this punishment for eight years.

He’s made to stay that way double the amount of time he was in there last time. Meaning he’ll be stuck down there for four weeks, being subjected to whatever his father (or mother, sometimes even his brother) sees fit.

He doesn’t notice he’s screaming until he stops, his throat feeling raw. His face is wet with the overflow of tears.

He hears a knock, then an extremely worried, “Dan?” through the door.

He can’t answer.

He hears the door handle jingle, and instantly knows he didn’t lock the fucking door.

“Dan, I’ve had a few friends hear screaming and more telling me you rushed in here looking petrified. Are you okay?”

Dan scoots away from the door, noticing the wardrobe. He quickly and silently stands up, and goes to hide in it. It’s a tight fit, but it’s better than being out in the open room. He feels safer in this confined space. The doors close easily, and that’s all he can ask for right now.

“Dan, I’m coming in okay?”

Dan’s breathing suddenly gets very shallow, and in that moment he’s doesn’t know if he’s having a panic attack or if he’s just straight up panicking.

He doesn’t answer Phil. He hears the door handle jingle a bit, then presumes the door is being opened.

“Dan?” his voice is worried, bordering scared. He hears the door shut again.

“Dan? C-come on, I know you’re in here. Dan?” his voice is closer, and it sounds like he’s on the verge of crying himself.

“Dan, your jumper and pants are in here, I know you’re in here,” his voice takes on a different sort of tone now, halfway between amused and disgusted, and somewhat relieved.

“Dan is…Leah, are you in here, too?” his voice is pure amusement now, and Dan almost wishes for Phil’s sake that however his mind made the situation look, that it was correct.

That’s not the case, unfortunately, and he’s going to have to shatter Phil’s amusement. But…he needs clothes, and there’s no fucking clothes in this damn wardrobe. Where the hell does Phil keeps his clothes and why does he have a wardrobe if he doesn’t fucking use it?

He can’t come out like this, red-rimmed eyes and tears stains, with tears still slipping. His arms are still littered with bruises, most prominent is the one on his upper arm on the left. There are welts and lash-type markings on his back…there’s no fucking way he’s going out there.

He hears Phil sigh, then says, “Dan, I don’t care if you’ve been fucking in here, but for the love of-“

Dan accidentally lets out a sob, when the unexpected pain of remembering the last time he spent time in this room before today.

He had Aimee had spent a long, lazy day in bed, sharing naked cuddles before Dan had to inevitably go back to his own house (his parents were normally too hungover, knocked out with sleeping pills or just generally dead to the world sleeping, to notice him gone. Well, they used to be that way all Saturdays and early Sundays until this last year.). They had made love earlier that Saturday morning, then again in the afternoon. He really, really did not want to leave her, she was the sole star on a new moon night for him, his only light in the dark. He knew how fucking cliché it was, but that’s how he had always described her. The kissed and made out and just cuddled in the silence. When it was absolutely necessary did he leave, feeling unusually more reluctant and almost scared to leave her this time.

Two days later is when he got the call.

He hadn’t thought about that specific night in such a long time as it was so fucking painful.

He refused to think about it now, but that one little memory of that day flit through his mind, and he let the damn sob out.

“Dan?” Phil’s tone is instantly concerned again.

“Dan are you…are you in the wardrobe?”

He decides to answer with a small knock on the door.

“Dan…come out, would you? Please?”

It might’ve been that Phil’s pleading tone tugged at his heart, it was probably more that his leg was starting to cramp (so he told himself, anyway), either way he ended up opening the doors and leaving his safety behind in the wardrobe.

He slowly stands up, making sure that the only side Phil sees is his front. Dan looks up at Phil and smiles, knowing that he looks like hell and that the smile will not reach his eyes. His eyes are still watery, tears are still forming. He feels too exposed so he crosses his arms over his body, crosses his legs because his boxers are too thin and too short for him.

Phil’s eyes are immediately scanning over his body, maybe looking for signs of physical injuries. They lock on Dan’s arms, and he knows he’s so fucked.

Not taking his eyes off that damn huge bruise on Dan’s upper left arm, Phil inches forward, tears so obviously forming.

“I have to go,” Dan’s voice is cracked and hoarse, and urgent and fearful. “I need to get out of here, I’m s-sorry,” he said, hurriedly collecting his clothes.

As he goes to grab his things, he exposes his battered back to Phil. As soon as he heard that shocked gasp leave his friend’s mouth, he knows he has no time to get dressed, and instead just grabs what he can and bolts. He again doesn’t think about the fact that the room full of people will surely see his ruined body, he just thinks about getting the fuck out.

No such luck, though, as the person who happens to be right at the door is Phil’s best friend, Ian. The moment Dan opened the door and saw him standing there, practically guarding the door, he knew he wasn’t getting out. Still, he tries.

Ian blocks him easily enough, and, without touching him, guides Dan back in the room. Ian shuts the door with the three of them inside Phil’s room. Dan feels ambushed, like Phil knew this was going to happen and set everything up in order to confront him about his home life and finally get answers.                              

“Just let me leave!” Dan cries out, tears rapidly forming and running down his cheeks.

“I’m going to, um, just tell everyone it’s time to go,” Phil said to Ian, completely ignoring Dan altogether. He quickly leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ian takes his place by the door, making it almost impossible for Dan to leave as Ian’s looks like a pretty strong guy and Dan has never worked out a day in his life.

Dan feels more worthless than a key without a lock as Phil said he’s sending everyone home for the night. He’s so fucking angry and upset with himself for ruining Phil’s night.

“I should’ve just stayed home!” He whispers forcefully, not meaning to actually whisper but that’s all the louder his volume is. He goes to the corner of the room directly opposite the door and sits there.

“Alright guys, tonight was fun, but I gotta end it early!” He can hear Phil say through the walls. Hearing the collective ‘why’s and ‘c’mon it’s not even that late’s and just general bummed-ness that the party thing is over so quickly makes Dan feel so fucking guilty for this.

It’s a few minutes of relative silence, mixed in with Dan’s sobbing/sniffling, until Ian speaks up.

“Y’know, he’s really worried about you.”

Dan’s thrown off, because he was just thinking about how much he fucking hates himself and how much he wishes he didn’t come tonight, or yesterday, or agreed to any of this at all. Hearing the gentle way Ian said this, when his mind’s words and tones have been so harsh, confuses him initially.

“What?” he hates how damn stupid he sounded when he said that, pronouncing it more like ‘whud’ than ‘what.’ He looks up at Ian, not really wanting to, but feeling like he has no choice, as if Ian’s going to shout at him for not looking at him whilst being spoken to.

Ian gives him a small, sad smile. Dan’s so sick of the small, sad smiles he’s been getting from Phil, and now he’s doing it, too. Fuck, why? He doesn’t want pity, he doesn’t want people to feel bad for him or to want to help him when it’s his fault for getting himself into the situations anyway.

“I said, he’s really worried about you. Phil, I mean. He worries about you a lot.”

“He does?” Dan furrows his brows in confusion. “Why?”

“Do you really have to ask that?” Ian said softly, furrowing his own brows.

“Dan, he told me all about the day you broke his door in, and to be honest I’m shocked he let you go back,” Ian admits, sounding slightly guilty at being privy to such information.

Dan’s face starts to burn with embarrassment and shame; that whole experience was nothing but shameful for him, and the only good thing was meeting Phil.

“He told me about the bruises he’ll see on your arms, he told me about the handprint on your face that one time. He knows you aren’t safe where you are. That’s why he wanted you to come up here and was so thrilled to hear that you could stay-“

“But that’s just it though!” Dan interrupts with a yell, sobbing hard. “I’m not supposed to  _be_  here!”

He can’t stop sobbing,  and he curls up into the smallest, tiniest ball he can manage. He gets slight déjà vu from the last time he was in Phil’s apartment, in this same position, panicking over virtually the same thing.

He feels Ian approaching him. He doesn’t want anyone near him, so when he looks up and Ian’s crouching down in front of him he starts screaming at him to get away. Ian immediately does as told, but he keeps screaming at him.

He hears the door open again, and he presumes Ian leaves. He stops screaming, and just continues on sobbing.

It’s amazing how one phone call conversation can just flip his world upside down.

~~~

“You have to be in there with him!” Phil hisses at Ian. “He cannot be left alone if he’s in the state you say he’s in!”

“He wouldn’t have stopped screaming if I hadn’t left,” Ian frustratingly whispers back. “I think you’re the only one here that can just…I don’t know, like calm him down? He’s panicking, Phil! I seemed to only make it worse!”

Phil can see how frustrated and helpless Ian is in this situation and he feels bad for putting him in it, but he can’t just not say goodbye to the people he invited over. Not to mention he can’t find PJ and his date (Mary? Marla? He can’t remember.), Chris, or Leah. Brilliant.

“Do you happen to know where the goofs went off to?” He asks Ian as the last of the people actually in his apartment leave. He knows they’re disappointed at his party thing being cut short, but Dan’s situation and having Dan feel as comfortable as possible is more important to him right now.

“Oh, we were up on the roof,” Phil can visibly see a connection being made in his head, with the slight cock of Ian’s head and a quick half blink.

“Actually…Dan was up there with us, we actually followed him up there,” Phil resists the strong urge to roll his eyes at the same time he resists shouting at Ian for allowing Dan to go up on the roof of his very tall apartment complex.

“Leah was talking to him, but I could tell he was looking for any excuse to, y’know,  _not_ talk to her.”

“Well damn, Ian, I coulda told you that. He had been avoiding her the whole time he was out of my room,” Phil’s never felt so irritated at his best friend for not paying close attention to his other close friend. He asked him specifically to look out for Dan as Phil knew he wouldn’t be able to do it the whole night and he’s told Ian what he suspects about Dan’s life.

Ian rolls his eyes and continues.

“Look, his phone rang, and he picked it up straight away, because, like I said, he was looking for an excuse not to talk to her anymore. He was already up and walking away, but he looked back I guess to make sure Leah wasn’t following him. His face was pale and he looked really, really scared. It was like a switch was flipped, and I guess whoever was on the phone was someone he’s afraid of.”

 _I bet I know exactly who,_  Phil thinks as he flashes back to what Dan had shouted at him the first time they met.

Phil had just grabbed Dan’s upper arm, wanting him to stop pacing, wanting him to calm down. He looked so panicked and frightened. He just wanted to help.

 _“No!”_  The boy had screamed, sobbing.  _“Please, dad, please it wasn’t my fault! Please don’t please please please.”_  He continued screaming, shaking hard and covering his head.

Phil’s heart sunk down to his stomach back then, and the same thing happens now. He’s all too familiar with the fear of an angry relative. His uncle, who lived with him and his ever-absent parents for years and acted as a “babysitter,” was a drunk, as he suspects at least Dan’s father of being.

He still hates being in rooms without windows, as when he got to be “too much trouble” for his uncle, he’d get shoved into the only room with no window or working lights. He’d wait for the silence that would inevitably come after his uncle drank himself to sleep, and leave to go to his room, where he’d lock the door and prevent his uncle from coming in. He’d leave messages for his parents via their emails, asking them to come home.

He knows his uncle drank for such stereotypical reasons (his wife left him after he lost his job due to arriving to work hungover (he began to drink because he hated his job) and was unable to gain employment, taking their unborn child with her. He was never able to hunt them down.) and he would’ve been able to forgive his drunken ass if he hadn’t beat the shit out of him every now and then for shits and giggles. There were worse things, but he doesn’t want to think about those. When he was ten, his parents finally listened to Phil’s constant pleas to get rid of him after witnessing him punching  Phil in the stomach over and over and having to call the police.

All these memories fly by in the blink of his eye, and he’s really overwhelmed. Suddenly he doesn’t want to be standing with Ian, discussing his theories about Dan’s life, or telling him any more about Dan’s life that even Phil shouldn’t know. In fact, Phil feels guilty now that he’s told Ian about such things.

Now, Phil just wants to be with Dan. Even if it’s just sitting and  _existing_ with him, he wants to be with him.

~~~

Dan has calmed down some. He’s stopped sobbing and panicking, at least. He’s still crying some, sniffling and wiping away tears, but he’s uncurled himself and he’s not as tense.

He’s surprised to find that he wants a hug.

He hears someone approaching the door, and he hopes it’s Phil.

The person knocks, asking in a deep northern voice, “Hey, Dan. ‘S it alright if I come in?”

His own voice cracks as he answers “yeah,” biting his tongue to prevent a “please” from slipping out.

The door slowly opens as he sees Phil’s head pop in, a small smile present on his face.

“Hey,” Dan’s voice is weak. He knows he looks like shit, his face streaked with tears, probably red and puffy too. His nose feels raw and it keeps running. He feels like crap, and he’s so overwhelmed with the want, no, need for a hug that he has to voice it. He doesn’t really want to come off needy, but he just can’t help it at this point.

“Before you say anything, I’ll talk to you later. I will. But I just…can you please just..” Dan’s suddenly flooded with embarrassment over his poor wording, over not being able to properly voice his need.

Phil seems to be so desperate to do whatever it is Dan wants him to do to help him. Dan remembers when he was panicking before, Phil was ready to hug him if he wanted it, so maybe he won’t reject him.

“Can you…” he sniffles, and feels very irritated at himself for not being able to phrase properly. So, instead of speaking his request, he decides to just stick his arms out like a child. Slowly opening his arms and widening them apart from each other, he looks up to Phil with his head cocked and eyes pleading.

Phil’s brows furrow ever so slightly before he gets what Dan wants, and Dan sees a flash of surprise on his face. In that flash, Dan manages to quickly convince himself that he’s going to laugh at him; that Phil’s going to deny him the hug he wants, craves, needs.

He’s frozen in that stupid position: arms stuck out in front of him, slightly widened for Phil to fit in, his tear-stained, puffy-eyed face staring up at him. He’s tearing up again, knowing that Phil isn’t going to-

He’s genuinely surprised when Phil slides in between his arms and legs and tightly wraps one of his own arms around Dan’s shoulders, the other around his waist, and shifts them so Phil’s against the wall. He’s too surprised by the acceptance of the hug to be shocked at their position; his knees are placed on the outside of Phil’s thighs, and he’s sitting in Phil’s lap, still only in his boxers.

He nuzzles his face into Phil’s neck and squishes his upper body as close to Phil’s as he possibly can. Phil’s shirt is really soft against his skin. He feels Phil tighten his arms and at the same time feels his head rest on top of Dan’s.

They stay like this for too long, yet too short. Dan’s not ready to let him go, but he can tell his friend is getting uncomfortable with the positioning, if the constant wiggling is anything to go by. Yet, he doesn’t want to be the one to initiate stopping the hug, so he waits for Phil to say something, because he’s allowing himself to be selfish. If he allowed himself to, he would fall asleep like this.

“Phil! PJ, Marie, and Chris are leaving now!” Dan hears Ian call out, and he sighs. That means Leah’s still here, and she’s the only person he wishes would’ve left right away.

“Dan, I have to get up,” Phil whispers, sounding almost as reluctant as Dan feels to be ending the hug.

He mumbles something along the lines of “I don’t want to get up,” and when Phil asks him to repeat himself, he just shrugs, not wanting to sound as pathetic as he feels.

He feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he remembers that he is only in his boxers, and he lets Phil go and flips so he’s off of Phil on sitting on the floor. He brings his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, covering himself up.

“I’m going to go say goodbye to them, and hopefully get at least Leah out. You can just stay in here, relax some more, I’ll be back soon.” He gives Dan a small smile, and Dan can see that he has tear tracks and his eyes are red and puffy, his nose red. He sniffles, and leaves.

Dan doesn’t move for a bit, getting lost in his thoughts. He actually allowed Phil to touch his bare skin and didn’t think twice about it. He trusted Phil to not hurt him, even when he was at his most vulnerable. Yeah, he doubted he’d get the hug he got, but he never once thought Phil was going to physically hurt him. Even with Aimee it took a full year to actually get him to that level of trust and allowing her to see him that vulnerable. There’s a weird clench in his stomach as he realises all this. He’s suddenly really uncomfortable with the amount of trust he’s given Phil, especially so quickly.

It hits him right then and there what Phil is to him, and it scares him.

~~~

Later, after everyone has left, Dan told Phil everything. He hadn’t intended to tell him _everything_ , some things, sure. But Dan told stories he didn’t even breath a word about to Aimee, memories he locked in his head that only escaped when he was sleeping.

He has no idea what compelled him to spill that much about his life, his past, but he did it. Phil never asked anything, didn’t pry, just let Dan talk and talk and talk.

He told Phil all about the lock-up, about how he wasn’t supposed to leave his house unless he was working or replacing what he ate and drank. He told him about the phone call that led to his panicked state.

Dan felt really numb during the explaining, yet he also felt his chest become lighter with each story told, each memory shared.

By the time he was done, Phil was an emotional wreck, he was the one with the drippy nose and tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes. Dan just sat with a blank expression and dry eyes.

They sat quietly for a long while, letting everything that was spoken or heard really sink in.

“Dan,” Phil chokes out, wrapping his arms tighter around the younger man. “Dan, I can’t-I won’t allow you to go back to that. I won’t, I can’t-“

Dan’s heartbeat sped up then, but he was so exhausted to really give in to the panic that arose with Phil’s words.

_Too exhausted to panic, that’s new._

“Phil-“ it came out as a whisper. He doesn’t know, really, what to say, how to counteract what Phil is saying, but he needs to dispute what he thinks he’s saying. He needs Phil to know he can’t just leave everything behind.

“No, Dan please just-you can stay here for as long as you need, get a job, go to uni if you want to. Just stay here until you get back on your feet, I can’t allow you to go back to that, Dan, I can’t and I won’t.” Phil sounds so worn, but Dan’s too weary to really give thought about what he’s done to Phil, and how all this new information is going to affect Phil’s life, or even if it’s going to have any affect at all.. He’s thinking only of himself, and how he really, really should be going back home now  to wait for his parents.

“Phil, I should really be go-“ Dan’s quickly pushed away from Phil, and is met with really angry, sad, and determined blue eyes.

“You have to listen to me, okay? It’s dangerous for you there, and I care about you too much to allow you to go back. If you do, I’ll…”

When he doesn’t continue the sentence, Dan asks him to finish. He thinks he knows where it’s going, but he needs to know for a fact.

“I’ll call the police.”

Dan wants to laugh at that, mostly he just feels sick. But really, it’s scary how much Phil doesn’t understand how that won’t work. It’s scary to think of someone as your best friend, yet they still don’t know the simplest things.

“Phil, I’ve never told you where my father works, have I.” He doesn’t bother asking, instead phrasing his statement like a question even though he knows Phil doesn’t have a damn clue.

Phil’s brows furrow, hoarse voice laced with confusion as he said, “Well, no…”

“Phil, my father  _is_  a policeman. That’s why whenever I called, because I used to, trust me, I did, not only would they never send anyone, but he would come home and beat the shit out of me. So…I stopped calling.”

“Dan…” Phil starts to cry again, quickly bringing him in for a hug.

Dan’s not sure who he’s trying to comfort anymore.

~~~

They spend the next few days acting as if Saturday night hadn’t happened. Phil tries to broach the subject the next morning, having woken Dan up around noon and beckoned him out of his room. But Dan isn’t having it and gives Phil the silent treatment until Phil stops trying. He should’ve snuck out after he realised Phil had passed out, but he was wrapped up in Phil’s arms, and he couldn’t leave the safety he felt. That’s how it was the past few nights; he hoped to sneak out as Phil slept, but Phil kept dragging him into his bedroom and made him feel too safe to leave.

Now, it’s Wednesday, and Phil refuses to let the subject go.

“You cannot just drop a bombshell on me and expect me not to react!” Phil counters when Dan repeats his ‘it’s not a big deal’ thing.

“Phil, I never should’ve brought it up, okay? It was a mistake, you caught me at an incredibly vulnerable point, and I felt like I could trust you with anything and everything. I didn’t think you’d want to talk about it afterwards, I didn’t think you’d react to it much at all, if I’m being honest!” Dan’s really frustrated, because when he thinks back, yeah, he really didn’t think Phil would want to talk about it anymore. He thought Phil would just absorb the information, like he had done with the lies he told over skype or phone calls or texts, and just move on after he realised Dan’s obvious discomfort with discussing it.

He’s being proven so, so wrong, as Phil refuses to stop asking. Dan let him in, and he’s beginning to think that was a major, major mistake.

“How could you think I wouldn’t react to that?! Your parents are abusing you, and you think I’m just going to sit back and let that happen? You think I’m not going to try and intervene, or help you in any way I can? You think you can just tell me all of this and then think I’m going to be okay with you going back to that hellhole? Because newsflash Daniel, I WON’T.” Phil shouts the last word and silence immediately falls all around them.

They start having a sort of stare down, where their eyes are locked and they both refuse to be the first to blink or look away. Unfortunately for Dan, Phil doesn’t have a hard time keeping his eyes open, and it doesn’t help he’s the most stubborn person Dan’s met.

He knows Phil’s doing what he thinks is best, but he doesn’t understand that he can’t help him. There’s no way he can, at least not in the way he’s suggesting.

He can’t just uproot what little life he has and escape his parents.

He’ll be damned if that doesn’t sound appealing to him though.

_Can I really do that? Can I really live with Phil, and leave behind all the negative family shit?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends.


	3. This Sensation's Overwhelming

> _Warnings: misogynistic slurs, ableist slurs, erotic dreams, food._

“Phil, did you finish my cereal again?” Dan shouts accusingly to Phil, who’s in his bedroom looking for his laptop charger.

The hesitant, almost questioning “no” he hears as a response tells him that Phil in fact, did finish off his cereal.

Dan groans. He doesn’t want to leave their apartment to get more cereal, nor does he want to strain himself by cooking, because he wanted an easy breakfast.

“Sorry!” Phil shouts, sounding anything but sorry. Guilty? Sure. Sorry? Nope.

 

Dan should know better by now, after living with him for almost a year, that Phil never fails to finish Dan’s cereal before his own, leaving him with no cereal as the cereal Phil has is the one (the only one, mind) that Dan doesn’t like.

“Y’know, you could just get the cereal I get instead of getting that shit you ‘like,’” Dan does air quotes around “like,” even though Phil’s not in the room with him. He knows Phil doesn’t actually like the cereal he gets; he only buys it because it’s a “healthy” option, not for the taste.

“We tried that, remember? It’s not the same!”

Dan rolls his eyes. It’s the same (slightly) playful banter they have, almost word for word, every time Phil finishes Dan’s cereal. They had tried just getting two boxes of the cinnamon cereal that Dan gets, marking one with a ‘D’ and the other with a ‘P’ to make sure they ate their own box. But alas, Phil still managed to finish Dan’s box, claiming that the fact it was Dan’s box made it “taste better.” Which was so obviously bullshit that Dan had thrown his empty box at Phil’s head. Then, Dan tried getting two boxes of his cereal, along with Phil’s crappy bullshit excuse for “cereal,” so Dan could still have his cereal, but Phil could also “steal” from it, as Dan didn’t tell him he had bought two boxes. But Dan’s cereal was again the first to be finished, and found the box he had hidden was apparently long gone by the time the one on the counter was finished. Dan didn’t think Phil had eaten any of his own cereal before he had eaten (both) Dan’s, and confirmed his suspicion when he had inspected Phil’s box and found that it hadn’t even been opened.

“Phil, we need to sort this cereal situation eventually you know!” He’s still agitated from having no cereal, but he can’t help the playful tone that keeps seeping through.

“Dan, I warned you as soon as you told me what cereal you liked that I would be stealing it.”

He can hear the “I-told-you-so” tone and wants to (playfully, of course) smack the back of Phil’s head. It’s true, though that doesn’t mean Dan’s happy about it.

“If I knew moving in with you meant basically never being able to finish my own cereal, I’m not sure I would’ve agreed to it!” Dan says, though they both know what he’s saying is bull.

When Phil had first proposed the idea of Dan moving in with him, Dan was so scared for so many reasons. Mainly, though, he had feared his father’s fury, his mother’s anger. But as it turned out, everything went eerily smooth once he finally decided to take Phil’s offer. Dan sent an email to his boss stating that he would not be returning to work, knowing he wouldn’t get it until he was back from vacation. Which meant his parents wouldn’t be aware of his departure for another few days. Money-wise, he was only allowed twenty percent of each cheque; seeing as he only made £120 a week and that he’d only been working a year with tips going to a charity (company policy), he didn’t exactly have too much. The portion of the pay cheque he was able to actually keep whilst the rest of it went to “paying back” his parents was stored in a blanket that was carefully folded around his stash at the top of his closet in his room, stacked with other extra blankets for the winter. He packed everything he called his own into a total of three suitcases and four large boxes. He also left his phone with all his personal information and pictures and contacts deleted. He got a new phone, new number, new network plan which left him with half the amount of money he started with. He got a new job as a waiter that pays twice as much and also allows him to keep the tips he earns.

He checked to make sure his parents never filed a missing persons report (of course, they did not). In fact, he couldn’t find any evidence that they even acknowledged that he was gone (not that he was complaining).

After a month of officially living together, they quickly realised two things: one, they really enjoyed living together, and two, Phil’s apartment was just too small for the both of them. They looked at other apartments in the building, and found one on the top floor for half the renting price of Phil’s current apartment. Phil made a joke about someone possibly being murdered there, which, after a moment, he immediately flushed and apologised profusely to Dan about. Dan had felt a small pang, but gave him a small smile.

They had moved all of the furniture with them, as Phil had bought his own furnishings for the apartment and had the originals in storage (apparently he also had a love for interior decorating, which pleased Dan to no end). Dan wanted to sell the furniture that this apartment also came with, as it would go unused. Their landlord, however,  had told them if they sold anything the apartment came with, then they’d have to replace it in the end, whether that was with other crappy furniture or the things Phil brought with him.  They opted to just go ahead and put this stuff in storage and pay the monthly fee. The small love seat that came with this apartment was the only acceptable piece that came with it, and since it was smaller and the lounge room was bigger, they were able to fit in Phil’s two seat sofa and his recliner, and have everything fit and still look roomy.

Almost a year later, the room stayed pretty much the same, save for an extra stand-alone shelving unit as the original one was just too small for Phil’s ever-growing DVD and game collection. This one was cheapy looking and made Dan cringe slightly, but after Phil started decorating it with stickers and little Pokémon figurines placed at the top, it grew on him.

Now, he’s staring at the little bulbasaur one as he hears Phil answer with a scoffing, “Yeah, that’s why you wouldn’t have moved in.”

He can’t help but chuckle at this, remembering all Phil’s other idiosyncrasies like his superstitions.

He decides to shock his system by eating a bowl of fruit for breakfast, for the first time in a long, long time.

~~~

"N-Phil," Dan sighs dramatically, rubbing his hands over his face, and peers through his fingers at Phil.

"Why not? I’ve not seen it and my friends think it’s a really good movie to see, particularly since it’s almost Halloween! It even scared you, and I personally know how difficult that is!" Dan can see Phil trying not to give away how humourous he finds this situation, and Dan finds it difficult to not slap Phil’s arm.

"Because that stupid fucking movie gave me nightmares for months, not to mention I’m still terrified of trees, especially at night. And now that it’s night you want me to watch it? No," Dan says, though he can already feel himself cracking thanks to Phil’s stupid fucking puppy eyes, begging him to watch  _The Blair Witch Project_.

"But Dan," Phil says, drawing out the vowel of his name.

"But Phil," Dan mocks, also drawing out Phil’s vowel.

Phil rolls his eyes and sighs overdramatically.

"Dan, I’m begging you as my best friend, please watch this scary movie with me."

Dan’s heart flutters at the words “best friend,” and he can’t stop the wide grin and sappy eyes that take over his face.

Phil’s smile creeps over his face, although his eyes are confused.

"What are you so smiley about?"

"You called me your best friend," Dan says shyly. He’s never had anyone call him a best friend. He’s never been able to claim someone as his best friend, either, but he just presumed that the title ‘Best Friend’ would never be his. He’s been mentally calling Phil his best friend for over a year now, and the title makes Dan’s eyes well up.

"Aw, Dan," Phil says sweetly, shuffling over to him and putting his arms around Dan’s shoulders for a hug. "Of course you’re my best friend. Have I never told you that?"

Dan squeezes Phil’s middle tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He’s trying to prevent tears, because he’s cried so much in Phil’s presence over the last year, but one slips out anyway.

"I’ve never been anyone’s best friend," he says, instead of answering Phil. "You’re my best friend, too, in case you couldn’t guess." He laughs at the end of the last word, pulling away from Phil after giving him a final squeeze.

He’s slightly overwhelmed, and greatly elated. He wants to hear Phil call him ‘best friend’ over and over.

He blames the fact that he’s on an emotional high when he answers Phil’s request to watch the damn movie together.

"Okay, go on„ put it in."

~~~

"Phil, please, can we turn it off?" Dan whispers an hour later, hiding his mouth behind his black duvet. He’s curled into Phil, staring wide-eyed at the screen, where Josh, Heather, and Michael have just bolted from their tent after having it rustled about by unseen creatures.

He feels Phil turn his head to look down at him as he answers.

"Dan, it’s not even that bad! They got lost in the woods and are freaking themselves out-"

"Their tent was being rattled, Phil! By clawing little hands, did you even hear the laughter? How are you not scared?" Dan’s a little bewildered that the movie that terrified him through childhood isn’t having even the slightest effect on Phil. He can feel himself tremble slightly as the people onscreen continue to run. He hates this movie so much, and he hates that Phil made him watch it.

"Dan, it takes more than a rattled tent to scare me." He can hear the humour and smugness in Phil’s voice, and he hates that he can’t be like that, all nonchalant about it.

They’re quiet for a while. It’s not until Michael and Heather reach the mysterious house in the middle of the woods that Dan fully hides behind his duvet. He curls further into Phil, feeling his body bouncing slightly from attempting not to laugh.

Dan playfully hits him and nervously tells him to shut up. He feels so childish for being so afraid of this stupid movie, but this movie spawned his fear of so many things. Like the woods and darkness, and especially the woods at night. He hates that he has fears that you’re meant to grow out of by the time you’re twelve, but it is what it is.

He feels Phil’s arm place itself around his shoulders, giving a squeeze.

They’re quiet as the movie finishes up, playing Heather’s terror and pain-filled screams.

They’re quiet as Phil removes himself from the couch, taking Dan’s pillow (Phil’s shoulder) with him.

They’re quiet as Phil removes the disk from the player and replace it in its case. His face is still buried in his duvet as he’s too scared to remove it.

"Dan?" Phil’s voice sounds small and worried.

"Yeah?" His own muffled voice croaks out - he really does hate this movie.

"Remember when you told me you wanted me to stay on the phone with you until you fell asleep? And you said it was because the sound of the trees was scaring you?"

Dan groans, because how the hell could he not remember that? He was being such a child. Still is, actually, if the tears at the corners of his eyes were anything to go by.

“‘Course I do. Why’re you bringing it up now?” He wanted to put an edge in his tone, but fails miserably as his voice hitches at the end.

"Is this movie the reason you were scared? Of the trees and the noises at night?" Phil said quietly.

Dan nods after a few moments, then, when he realises his mistake as Phil cannot see him, he timidly answers.

"Yes."

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment Dan thinks he can’t speak because he is trying not to laugh.

"Dan," Phil’s soft voice seems to fill his head. It sounds sympathetic, but Dan’s purposely taking it as pity.

He makes sure his eyes are dry and clears his throat as he takes the blanket off his head.

"I’m okay, just indulged a bit in my childishness is all."

He gathers his duvet, hastily said goodnight to Phil and rushes to his room.

~~~

He spends part of the night wondering why he consciously misinterpreted Phil’s sympathy for pity.

He spends the other part pondering and hoping that the fluttery feeling in his heart he got after Phil told him he is his best friend was strictly for that exact reason.

~~~

He wakes up the next morning (in truth, it’s already the afternoon) groggy and slightly dizzy. After yawning and stretching for about ten minutes and not hearing a ‘good morning, Dan,’ he realises he’s alone in the apartment. He’s thrown slightly, because Phil normally tells him when he’s going in for his job as a private accountant. He’s normally able to work from home as his clients just send him their shit via his work P.O. Box, but he thinks that it may have been an emergency. How number crunching can turn into an emergency, he doesn’t really know.

Dan’s kind of thankful for his time alone, though. He only had maybe three hours of sleep total, and since Phil gets up before him, he’s normally awake and cheery even though Phil himself dislikes ‘those’ types. Well, until he is one of ‘those’ types, then he’s perfectly okay. Dan on the other hand takes more than a cup of coffee to function.

The coffee is cold, so he has to warm it up in the microwave, even though he hates doing that. He’d rather use that crappy instant coffee Phil normally has and use the kettle, but they ran out yesterday (of course).

He sits on the soft leather sofa and rests his socked feet on the coffee table, relaxing against the back. He breathes in the coffee steam, feeling his mind become less foggy.

His drink isn’t too hot, so he’s able to finish it pretty quickly. His hair is curled because he didn’t straighten it after he showered yesterday, but as he has today off from his job he’s not going to bother with it today.

He asks the age-old question aloud: “What should I do today?”

He looks around their apartment, finding dirty napkins that missed the bin still sitting on the floor. There are older, random magazines strewn about that they used to have stacked neatly on their coffee table. There’s a cheap pair of earbuds wound up in a ball by their TV stand. The carpet could use a hoovering, their appliances could use a dusting…

The list could potentially go on for a while, so he gets down work.

~~~

Dan’s done everything he listed in his head, plus he did his laundry and sorted his room out as it was getting cluttered. He had texted Phil earlier asking his whereabouts and what he was up to, but, as usual when Phil was working, he got no response.

He finds himself quickly becoming bored again, and a quick glance at the clock tells him that if he wants to, he could start cooking up a proper dinner for himself and Phil which should be done by the time he predicts Phil’s arrival.

He just wishes he could get ahold of the aloof twat.

~~~

Not only did he start and finish cooking, he, after waiting for half an hour, made himself a plate of lukewarm potatoes and beef.

He finds himself really disappointed and highly worried that Phil isn’t home yet, as it’s half past seven and he normally comes back by five at the latest.

He’s sitting on his bed and just about to call Phil for the fourth time when he hears the door open.

“Phil?” he calls out happily, excited to finally have his favourite company back.

“Who’s that?” he hears an unfamiliar masculine, Irish-sounding voice ask, which makes his heart drop to his stomach.

 _Did…did Phil bring back a…date?_  he asks himself, furrowing his brows, both at the thought of Phil bringing back an unmentioned date and the way that thought makes his stomach clench in an odd way.

“Oh, that’s my flatmate I told you about,” Phil answers, and Dan feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

Flatmate? Just a flatmate? Just last night he was ‘best friend,’ what happened? He wishes he were more surprised by how quickly his eyes begin to water. He really shouldn’t be as upset about Phil’s wording as he is, but if he had any friends, he would constantly refer to Phil as his best friend. He guesses he just hoped Phil would be the same way.

“Ah, I forgot about that.” There’s a distinct edge to his words as she said this, as if he’s the one intruding on this other man’s night.

“ _That_  is a person with a name, Pete.” He hears Phil laugh a bit, and Dan really, really wishes he had worked today, because he wouldn’t be here to endure this impending, possibly dreadful, conversation. And who the fuck is Pete?

All Dan wanted was a dinner with his best friend, hoping that maybe he’d be able to ask Phil if he, too, had felt a fluttery feeling when Dan had called him his best friend and if that was just the normal reaction. He wanted a nice night again, like they had had last night until Dan abruptly left.

But as he hears Phil calling to him and asking him to come out to “meet someone special,” Dan finds himself hoping that he means a cousin that he’d never mentioned.

He quickly dries his eyes, and projects fake confidence as he leaves his room, pushing away the fact that he’s still in his PJs.

As he enters the lounge, he observes that Phil and this man are giggling into the other’s mouth, as if he just walked in on the ending of a kiss.

In the space of two seconds, he’s able to take him all in. His creamy white skin, his vibrant, short red hair. He’s probably a half-foot shorter than Phil. If he had green eyes, he’d be the stereotype of an Irish man.

The sight makes his stomach turn for a reason he’s trying desperately to ignore. He almost does leave, except it’s as he goes to turn that he hears Phil clear his throat and laugh out, “Sorry, thought it would take you a few more moments.”

His face is flushed and the smile he wears as he glances to the man, Pete, he presumes, is one that Dan hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing until now.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Dan says, his voice sounding much steadier than his emotional state.

“You didn’t intrude on much, doll,” Pete purrs in a smooth, definitely Irish-accented voice.

He has a fleeting thought that maybe Phil has hired a prostitute, false hope lifting his heart, before he squashes it as he knows Phil has too much respect for other humans to “buy” one for the night.

“So, um, who’s this?” He gestures stiffly to this man, Pete. He’s highly aware that a little more than curiosity slipped through in his tone, but he can’t help it. He wanted Phil tonight, he wanted his best friend. He’s been really bored and he was unable to reach him and the few other friends he’s made are more Phil’s friends than his. Meaning, he feels weird talking to them without Phil’s presence.

He doesn’t bother to hide his discomfort, either. He feels only slightly guilty as he watches Phil’s smile fall after he takes in Dan’s features.

He can tell he’s made everything just a little tense and insanely awkward, as ‘Pete’ flinches a bit and looks at Phil as if he was the cause.

The fake smile ‘Pete’ plasters on his face is an indicator that maybe Dan was supposed to have heard of him before tonight.

“Phil hasn’t told you about me?” His voice is clipped and his eyes are sharp.

He had said the wrong thing. He knows he did, if Phil’s disappointed face is anything to go by.

“No, I have. He probably wasn’t listening though. I told you he’s a little spacey.”

Dan’s heart completely drops. He can’t believe Phil just said that. He’s always so attentive when listening to Phil, even all those stupid drunken rambles that he was sober for. He would remember if Phil had ever mentioned a man he seems to be interested in.

He tries to glare angrily at Phil, but he knows hurt is more prominent on his face.

He doesn’t say anything as he whips around and returns to his room, slamming the door shut.

He collapses into his bed and curls himself into a ball, grabbing Bear and hugging him to his chest.

 _Don’t cry don’t you fucking cry,_  he tells himself.

His eyes start to water, and he decides to just give in.

Not even five minutes later he hears the front door slam, and he wonders if he managed to anger Phil and make him leave again.

_I didn’t do anything wrong!_

The soft knock on his door though soothes his worries slightly.

“Dan? Can, um, can I talk to you?”

“Are you going to insult me again?” he asks, his voice muffled by Bear.

“I-it wasn’t-no, I’m not going to insult you,” Phil stutters, sounding slightly exhausted.

“Then fine.” He really doesn’t mean to be short with Phil, but he hurt him.

He hears the door click, and at the last second he throws his duvet over his body to act as if he was trying to go to sleep and not just being overly emotional about words.

“Is it alright if I sit on your bed?”

That’s how Dan knows Phil knows he’s done something wrong. He never asks to sit on his bed, neither of them asks anymore, because there’s always a silent invitation to do so. Tonight, it’s silently been revoked.

He sniffles, rolling his eyes at how pathetic he must sound.

“Go ahead and sit on my bed, Phil,” he says, almost sneeringly.

A moment goes by before he feels the mattress sink behind him.

They’re both quiet; Dan doesn’t know at all what to say and he presumes Phil doesn’t know where to start.

It’s so quiet in his room that he startles when Phil clears his throat.

"So-"

"Who was he?" He cuts Phil off, distain seeping into his tone, voice barely above a whisper.

"Uh, Pete-Peter, actually. He works at the supermarket I like to go to? That’s where I went this morning, and uh. We got to talking, and I decided to wait until he was done with his shift. He-we went out. On a date," he says uncomfortably.

"Oh." Dan can’t help the disappointment that comes through.

"Yeah," Phil sighs.

"Have you…been out with him before? Is that why he’s was so upset I didn’t know him?"

"No, we’ve um. We’ve been flirting, but that was it until today-"

"So why did he react like that? And why the fuck did you call me ‘spacey’ and tell him I have a listening problem?" He sits up and turns around so quickly he’s shocked he doesn’t get whiplash. "There was no reason to be such a fucking ass. I’ve never, not once, even during your few stupid drunken rambles, spaced out on you. I’ve never not listened to you. Why did you lie to him about me? Why did you lie about me?” he asks weakly, not able to keep his eyes from watering (for the third time today).

He feels betrayed, and he’s hurt. He wants to actually slap Phil across the face - he won’t, but he wants to. He’s been called horrible, unspeakable things before by his “family.” He could handle that. He could handle being called similar things by his peers.

He can’t handle his best friend calling him spacey. Does he truly think he’s spacey? Does he really think Dan actually doesn’t listen? How can he call Dan his best friend if he doesn’t think he’s being listened to and then proceed to call him names?

Phil looks like Dan followed through wanting to slap him in the face.

 _Where does he get off on feeling hurt?!_ His  _best friend didn’t call him names or falsely accuse him of not listening!_

He knows his face is full of hurt and he hates that Phil definitely knows that he’s managed to hurt Dan, and he wishes he could hide it. He feels wary knowing Phil now knows he holds that kind of power.

Phil’s face is immensely apologetic and full of remorse.

Maybe he knows how hard it is to gain Dan’s full trust and respect and be given the most prestigious and sought after friendship label.

"Dan, I didn’t exactly expect him to be upset that you didn’t know who he was. I don’t know why my first reaction was to speak lowly of you, and I’m sorry."

Dan continues to sit there, letting his eyes well up, arms crossed. He wishes he had a reason to be mad at Pete, but he really doesn’t. Pete didn’t do anything wrong, either. This was Phil’s fault entirely.

"Yeah, well. I can’t believe it, either," he says bitterly. By saying that Dan doesn’t listen insinuates that he doesn’t care, but he does. He cares so, so much about Phil. But then Phil does something like this, and his presence starts to feel like too much.

He wants to tell Phil to leave; the room feels too small and Phil’s too close. At the same time, however, he wants to pull Phil close and beg him to never say rude things about him ever again.

Phil’s watery eyes just stare at him, full of regret.

Dan’s mouth starts moving before he has time to think about what he said.

"Y’know, it’s okay really. I mean, you didn’t say anything too bad. I overreacted." It’s kind of a lie, but it’s sort of the truth, too. It’s not okay, but Phil really didn’t say anything so horribly wrong. He did overreact.

"No no, you had every right to get upset at me for that. I shouldn’t’ve said mean things about you. I really am sorry." He reaches for Dan’s hand, grabbing it before apologising again, and he lets him take it. He gives it a squeeze, and Dan squeezes back.

"It’s okay, Phil. I forgive you." He squeezes his hand again.

Phil squeezes back, whispering a ‘thank you’.

They’re softly staring at each other for a moment before Phil’s eyes flit away, blinking rapidly.

"Okay, well. I should let you sleep now," he says, almost reluctantly.

The last time they slept together was the week leading up to him officially moving in with Phil. They haven’t slept in the same room or bed since then, as he slept on Phil’s sofa until they moved into this flat where they have their own rooms.

He misses sleeping with Phil; he’s warm and comfortable and makes Dan feel safe.

"H-hey Phil?" He feels nervous about asking for some reason.

Phil looks at him, perplexed, as he asks, “What?”

"Would you mind, maybe, um, like…would you mind staying here? Like, sleeping in my bed? With me?" He internally groans at his awkwardness.

_Why can’t I just act normal for once?_

Phil looks slightly surprised, yet pleased, with Dan’s request.

"Yeah, sure, if you want? Are you sure you don’t want to be left alone tonight? To, y’know, cool off or whatever?"

"I-yes, I want you in my bed for tonight." He blushes slightly at his wording, but still attempts to pull it off as cheeky instead of accidental.

Phil smirks down at his hands, which are folded in his lap.

"All right, then. I’ll go get dressed." He smiles back at Dan, pats his leg and leaves.

Dan flushes when he remembers Phil doesn’t wear boxers under his pajama pants.

~~~

Sleeping with Phil is slightly different from the last time.

Dan’s slightly taller than Phil now, whereas last year he was a good two inches shorter than him. That, plus Phil’s not as desperate to make sure Dan stays with him.

He still feels safer being with Phil already than he does sleeping alone.

Still, even with the height difference, he snuggles into Phil’s side, wrapping his arms tighter around his waist. Phil curls around Dan, and softly sighs into his hair.

Phil falls asleep almost right away, whereas Dan stays awake for a few hours, appreciating being engulfed in Phil’s warmth.

He falls into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

~~~

"WAKE. UP," Phil says loudly, thwacking the back of his head with a pillow.

"PHIL!" Dan exclaims, shrieking because he  _cannot_  believe Phil just did that. He grabs the back of his head and turns slightly but not all the way around.

"I  _am_  up, you twit!”

"No you aren’t! You’re  _awake_ , but you’re not  _up_.”

Dan mumbles into his pillow, something along the lines of ‘it’s the same damn thing,’ to which Phil replies, “It isn’t! Will you get out of bed faster if I say I’ll make you food?”

Dan’s ears perk up with the promise of someone else making him breakfast.

"Pancakes? With golden syrup?" He bats his lashes for dramatic effect, and gets the response he hoped for when Phil laughs hard and loudly.

"Ye-yeah Dan, sure," he says, still laughing.

He smiles as Phil leaves his room, still curled up under his duvet.

He really doesn’t want to leave; he’s so warm and comfortable.

He’s glad that he woke up before Phil did, because he had time to roll onto his stomach before Phil could feel… _him_.

When Phil was first trying to wake him up, though, he thought he was in serious trouble. Phil was trying to flip him over, and, well. That would’ve been really embarrassing for him, and really,  _really_  awkward for Phil.

He shakes his head slightly to rid himself of the dreams, particularly the one that most definitely brought on his state to begin with.

He heads to the bathroom for a much needed morning shower.

~~~

Dan lets his hair dry naturally, putting on clean pajamas, not quite ready getting ready for the day yet. He feels only slightly guilty for his other activity he did in the shower, the thoughts that swam through his mind.

"Hey, Hobbit!" Phil says cheerfully, after Dan strolls out into the kitchen.

Dan rolls his eyes and huffs. He wishes he hadn’t told Phil how he thinks he looks like a hobbit with curly hair. It didn’t take long for Phil to pick up the nickname.

"What?" Phil laughs.

Dan only sighs dramatically, plopping down in one of the breakfast bar stools.

"Well, here you go. Breakfast à la Phil." He puts a plate stacked with five or six golden brown pancakes soaked in syrup in front of him.

Dan smiles in appreciation, digging in straight away as his stomach grumbles loudly. He blushes slightly, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge the noise.

He notices Phil’s put syrup on in between the layers of pancake as well, the way he likes it. Dan never really paid attention to how much Phil pays attention to Dan’s habits, like how he takes his pancakes or that he drinks coffee with a tablespoon of sugar and a splash of milk with his pancakes. He hadn’t even realised Phil had even given him a drink until it was halfway done.

"Phil?"

"Yeah?" He’s eating his own stack of pancakes now, with lemon juice and sugar.

"How do you know how I like my pancakes? And my coffee? And that I like coffee with my pancakes?" He hates that he sounds so awkward.

"Daniel, it’s not exactly a stretch to connect the dots that people like coffee with breakfast. It’s practically universal knowledge. But, I know how you like your pancakes and coffee because I’m observant." He smirks.

"You watch me whilst I…make…food," Dan says, squinting and making an obvious face to show Phil that he’s being slightly sarcastic in his questioning.

"I don’t mean to, but…somehow I just end up knowing that you’re persnickety when it comes to food and how you like it," he admits sheepishly .

Dan’s about to tease him about being creepy, but then he realises that he has been doing just the same with Phil. He notices that he also knows how Phil likes his pancakes, and whilst he does like lemon and sugar, he prefers it with…

"Phil, why don’t you have syrup on yours?"

He smiles bashfully. “See? You know how I like my food, too. Anyway, there was only enough for one of our stacks.”

Dan’s fork pauses about halfway to his mouth, and then he lowers his fork to his plate.

"You know that, whilst I do like syrup, I like lemon and sugar almost as much."

Phil finishes his mouthful, swallowing.

"No you don’t," he says matter-of-factly.

They’re quiet for a few moments, before Dan blurts out, “So are you going to see Pete again?” He says his name with venom, his jealousy sparking up again.

Phil’s brows furrow with confusion, before he smirks slightly.

"Daniel, do I detect some jealousy in your tone?"

Dan’s cheeks flush bright red.

"No, I just-I didn’t appreciate the way you act around him." He goes for partial honesty.

"Mm hm, sure Dan," he said, drawing out the ‘u’. He’s finished his food and puts the dishes in the sink, leaving the kitchen and going to sit in the lounge.

Dan finishes his last few bites of pancake and few mouthfuls of coffee, putting his dirty dishes in the sink with Phil’s. He quickly goes into his room and grabs his laptop, headphones, and charger, and dashes back into the lounge. The black charger gets plugged in, and he plops down on the sofa, resting his back on the arm and stretching his legs out in front of him, resting the laptop where the name suggests.

A few moments go by before Dan speaks up again.

"So," he begins, drawing out the vowel. "You didn’t exactly answer whether or not you were going to see him again or not…"

Phil doesn’t say anything until Dan looks over to him.

Eyebrows raised, eyes locked on Dan’s, he simply, yet with a hint of finality, says, “No, I’m not seeing him again. Though I guess I should find a new supermarket to go to.”

Dan quickly ducks his head down so Phil doesn’t see his smile, but he knows he fails.

~~~

They continue sleeping in the same bed together off and on for the next few weeks, and Dan has never slept better.

He worries that he’s not going to wake up before Phil one of these days and get caught in a state after…a really, really detailed dream, and Phil’s never going to let him sleep with him again. Or worse, he’ll feel too awkward around Dan.

Other than that issue, there’s really only one downside to sleeping with Phil, and it’s that his feelings for Phil are growing, morphing into things he didn’t think he would ever feel for a man, much less a man who is his best friend.

He hates that he’s developing romantic feelings towards Phil. He didn’t even know he would ever feel any sort of feelings for any man, other than platonic. He hadn’t known that he was… whatever he is. Bisexual? Bi-romantic? Both? Both, he supposes, though he really isn’t too keen on labeling himself, if he’s honest.

He knows he loves Phil, he’s loved Phil for a while, but now…

He feels like he’s in severe danger of  _falling in love_  with Phil.

And sleeping with him almost every night isn’t helping.

~~~

Dan has been feeling really unnerved all day.

He had gone down to the shop  round the corner from their building to buy some local fruits and veg. While he was stopped at a pedestrian crossing, a cab drove by and he could’ve sworn he had seen his father, and most likely his mother, riding in the backseat, though the couple was much too wrinkly to be them. It had sent him in a panic all the same though, and he bolted back home, knocking people out of the way.

He jammed the buttons for the lift to open and then jammed the button for the doors to close, then flew to his and Phil’s door, jamming the key in and slamming the door as soon as he was inside. He made a run for his room, but Phil had stuck his arm out and cut him around his waist, spinning Dan to face him.

He was on the verge of hyperventilating as he heard Phil firmly saying his name over and over, asking him to calm down.

He didn’t want to be touched then; it was making his skin burn where Phil’s hands were touching. He ripped himself away from Phil, and then shrunk to the ground, curling up in a ball.

He hasn’t had panics or high anxious feelings for months. Phil’s been a little out of practice about what to do for Dan, but it seemed to come quickly back to him, calmly repeating, “Breathe, Dan. Deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, okay? Breathe.”

It took an hour to calm down almost completely, and Phil went overboard to get Dan’s favourite everything (such as: his favourite take out meal, his favourite sweets, and his favourite drink, none of which they had in their home). He set Dan up with his duvet and comfy place in the lounge and his favourite movie (Moulin Rouge!).

Dan had taken it slow the rest of the day, moving once every hour because he’s supposed to.

He’s tired now, he’s had a long day and all he wants to do is sleep.

He sluggishly makes his way over to his room and dresses in his pajamas, hating that it’s so cold, though he supposes he should get used to it, since it is mid-November. He hates having to wear pyjama bottoms and a shirt to bed as he feels too constricted when he sleeps, but he’s had to do that anyway when he and Phil sleep together. He still highly dislikes doing it.

"Phil!" he shouts out, too lazy to walk the extra few steps so he doesn’t have raise his voice.

He hears the Phil’s feet padding to his door, his socks making a soft scratching noise against the carpet.

He sticks his head through Dan’s doorway.

"What’s up?"

"Do we have extra blankets hidden somewhere?"

"Um, I think I have a few in my room, yeah. Do you not have any?" he asks as he turns, presumably to his own room.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Do you think I’d ask if I had any, idiot? No, I don’t have any extra blankets or sheets, and I’m fucking cold. Can I borrow one or two? And can you sleep in my bed tonight as well?”

He hears Phil chuckle in the room next to him, Phil’s room.

"Yeah, I’ll bring in a few blankets after I get dressed, and then, yeah."

Dan decides on attempting just a shirt for tonight, as his legs feel the most constricted when he tries to sleep with pjs on. He hopes Phil won’t mind.

Phil comes back a few moments later with three fleece blankets and his duvet, dressed in his red plaid pajama pants and his blue Domo shirt with a fuzzy mustache.

Dan’s only in a loose fitting white cotton shirt and colourful boxers and he’s freezing.

"We really need to think about turning the heat on," Phil said as he drops what he’s carrying onto the bed.

Dan shrugs, getting more and more nervous as Phil lays the blankets down.

_What if I make him uncomfortable?_

All those other times he’s slept with Phil, he hadn’t had his pajama pants on; they always ended up sliding off at some point during the night, though. This time, he’s starting with them off, and Phil has no idea.

"Phil, just so you know, I don’t-" He cuts himself off, thinking about how weird he’ll make everything.

"What was that?"

"I, um. Pajama pants make me feel constricted and I’ve been wearingthemforyoubut theyalwaysendupcomingoff." He pauses, because he’s bleeding his words together now. "So I just…I don’t have them on right now, sorry. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can wear them? But they do justendupcomingoff." He sighs. He hates that he rushed through because Phil probably didn’t get half of what he was saying.

Phil’s faced away from him, as he’s smoothing out the blankets (as if they’re not going to get crinkled during the night), so he doesn’t get to see his initial reaction. But he feels the pause he takes in fixing the wrinkles as the words hit him.

"So…by morning, you don’t have your pjs on?" His voice finally cuts through the silence, still not looking at Dan.

"I-well, I put them back on before you wake up?" He’s nervous, and because of that, everything he said is going to sound like a question.

A subconscious,  _Am I saying the right thing?_

"W-are you always up before me?" There’s a slight panicked tone in his voice that confuses Dan.

"Well, yeah…I have a mental alarm for six thirty." It’s true. Every day, no matter how late he’s gone to sleep, he consistently wakes up at that time. A leftover from when he had to be up that early in order to avoid his parents in the morning.

"Hm," is all Phil responds with.

"I do go back to sleep, though? I just put my pants back on and turn over?" He doesn’t mention what else he has to do. He’s already made things weird, he can almost feel how tense Phil is.

"Well…I mean, if you’ve been doing that the whole time - I mean, taking your pjs off then putting them putting them back on, because that’s what makes you comfortable - then I don’t exactly see an issue with you starting off comfortably tonight?" Phil’s voice is hesitant, almost uneasy-sounding, as if he’s not sure if it’s actually a good idea or not.

"If you’re sure…I don’t - I don’t want to make anything uncomfortable for you," he says, almost whispering. He feels so awkward about everything now.

"I’m sure. I want you comfortable when you sleep." The waver in his voice tells Dan that he’s not feeling too sure about this decision at all.

"O-okay, then."

They don’t say anything more as Phil turns the light off and slips under the covers, seemingly being careful not to touch him. Dan’s heart falls a bit, as he definitely made things really, really weird between them.

"Nevermind, I’ll just put them on," he whispers. He has his amber lamp on, one that he got from India that’s full of dead, ancient bugs, so he turns it off so he can go unseen.

"Wait-" Phil said, grabbing Dan’s arm. Phil’s hands are so cold, so he shivers a bit as the coldness wraps around his warm arm.

"Sorry," he says, though the laugh behind his voice says otherwise. "But, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I had forgotten that you told me that you feel constricted in pajamas." Dan had forgotten that he had mentioned that. "And, well, I guess I should’ve known that  _that_  was the alternative.”

He turns his lamp back on, settling back into the bed.

Half an hour later, even though he has a total of five covers on him, he still finds himself shivering.

"Dan?" Phil’s sleepy voice whispers.

"Yeah?"

"I can feel you shaking." There’s a slight humour to his tone, making Dan swat at the lump that is his best friend.

"I’m cold! I always feel the cold more than I feel the warmth," he says lamely.

"Oh," is all Phil says.

About a minute later, as Dan’s still shivering and making the bed shake, Phil speaks up again.

"Get over here, Hobbit." And before Dan can react, he feels Phil’s arm wrap around his waist, pulling him into Phil.

They’ve never spooned before, not to Dan’s knowledge anyway. They’ve cuddled into each other, facing the other one, and they’ve had their backs pushed up against the other’s, but they’ve never spooned.

Dan’s ass is up against Phil’s crotch, and really, that’s all Dan can concentrate on.

Not that they fit really well together or that Phil is really, really warm, or the way Phil’s holding him close. No, he can only concentrate on his ass on Phil’s crotch.

His face heats up, and then manages to heat up more as he remembers that Phil only sleeps in pjs, meaning there are only two layers of cloth between them.

“‘Night, Dan,” Phil yawns, presumably falling back to sleep.

He hopes with all his might that he doesn’t wake up in the same state he normally does after sleeping with Phil.

~~~

Luckily, things stayed down and the night was actually really nice.

The only weird thing was that he hadn’t woken up at six thirty. It was quite jarring to wake up this morning, feeling completely well-rested, at ten a.m. instead. Good, but weird.

He’s sitting in the lounge, putting his shoes on now, and ready to leave for work. Phil’s sat in his special recliner, presumably working.

"Have you seen my jacket?" Dan asks, tying his right shoe up.

"Isn’t it hanging on the back of the door?" Phil asks, not looking up from his laptop.

A quick glance tells him that it’s not there.

"No, it’s not."

"Oh, okay."

Silence.

"Phil."

"What?"

"You were the last one that had it," Dan reminds him. His winter jacket and a few of his hoodies had been in the wash, leaving Dan’s lone jacket the only extra layer of clothing left. He had asked to borrow it, and when Dan gave him permission the only thing he asked was that he put it back where he got it, which was the back of the door.

Dan sighs.

"Phil…Where’s my jacket? I have to leave for work in like, five minutes."

Silence.

"Phil!"

He jumps as Dan raises his voice.

"I don’t know where it is, Dan! Maybe you misplaced-"

"You were the last one to have it."

Phil just stares at him.

"You asked to borrow it yesterday?"

More staring.

"PHIL!"

"I broke the zip!" he blurts out.

Now it’s Dan’s turn to just stare. Only his gaze is angry, where Phil’s was confused.

"I’m sorry. I broke the zip. It wouldn’t go up and I was getting frustrated, and th-"

"You broke my zip. Phil, that’s literally my only jacket!" He’s still hoping Phil’s just kidding, though he knows he’s really not.

"I didn’t mean to! Look, you can borrow one of mine, and then I can buy you a new one?" He looks at Dan with wide eyes.

Dan sighs, quickly walking to Phil’s room to grab one of his jackets.

He calls out over his shoulder as he leaves, “I expect a new jacket to be waiting for me when I come home!”

~~~

He loves his job most days, but today was really horrible.

He had a lot of groups of teenagers, as it was the Christmas holidays, and none of them left tips even though they all ordered their meals to be specially made and he was on top of his game, asking if they wanted another drink or if they were enjoying their meals, making sure they were always satisfied with their visit. If they needed something sent back or ordered an extra side of chips, he had delivered top service.

Mixed in with all this was a group of four or five business men and women, all ordering complicated orders and sending something back if it wasn’t  _exactly_  as they ordered, meaning if there was an extra leaf of lettuce or not enough vinegar for their chips they’d send the whole order back. And because he “didn’t get it right the first time,” he didn’t get tips from them either.

There were a few good customers, but the majority of them were rude and inconsiderate.

He worked until closing, at ten o’clock, and by then he was beat, tired, and frustrated. His feet hurt, and he wasn’t at all pleased with the last set of teenagers who had refused to leave at closing and had to be threatened with a police call in order to leave.

He has to take a cab home, and it’s dark and he hates the dark and of course the stupid restaurant is surrounded by trees.

He hates taking cabs home because the night shift drivers always give him the creeps.

This one he decides straight away to have him drop him off about three buildings away from his because he feels that the driver will definitely stalk him, even though the man might be the nicest person he’ll have met that day.

After the ten minutes of the man mumbling to himself, they finally arrive to the building he asked to be dropped off in front of.

"That’ll be four pound fifty."

And Dan knows that’s wrong, as he always pays six pounds minimum, so he decides to hand him two fivers and tells him to keep the change, making the man smile gratefully.

Dan calls pretends to call someone, so it looks like he’s busy. He thinks he should ask Phil if he’ll allow him to just waffle at him during those few moments until he gets home. He initially starts walking the wrong way on purpose, until the cab’s out of sight. Then he bolts towards his own building, flinching at every unsettling noise he hears as he rushes by trees and bushes along the pavement. He looks back every few steps, making sure he’s not being followed.

Because it’s Manchester, no one really gives him shit for acting in such a way, but he knows he does tend to grab more attention to himself.

Once he reaches his actual building, he enters and jogs towards the lift, making sure he’s the only one there, hurriedly jamming the button to make the doors shut. He presses his level, and catches his breath as he moves up.

He knows he needs to relax, needs to act more normally, needs to get his cab drivers to drop him off in front of his own building, but he can’t let go of the fear he holds. He’s internalised too many horror movies.

~~~

"Phil, this jacket is too small," he says, after  changing out of his fancy work clothes and into his dark red sweatpants and his Joker black shirt. He has his legs folded under him as he sits on the sofa, inspecting the jacket Phil bought to replace his other one.

"You haven’t even tried it on yet. How can you be so sure it’s too small when you haven’t tried it on yet?"

He feels his face start to warm with his oncoming blush.

"Because Phil, I can tell when something’s too small to fit me. Look at it." He shoves the article into Phil’s face. "Maybe you can fit into it, but I’m just…too big for it." He likes it a lot, though. It’s a black pea coat that had to cost Phil more than Dan’s entire wardrobe combined.

"Well, I’m not returning it until you try it on." He stares at Dan expectantly.

Dan sighs in defeat. He doesn’t want to try it on in front of him because the size Phil bought this in tells him Phil doesn’t realise just how heavy he is, and he kind of doesn’t want to shatter that.

He stands and puts his arms through, and is shocked to find-

"Dan, it fits perfectly!" Phil says, his face lighting up with a big, bright smile.

Dan huffs out a laugh, not believing it.

"It actually fits!" he states as he buttons the last button at the top.

He beams over to Phil, because it’s literally a  _perfect_  fit.

"Ha! I knew it would fit!" Phil says triumphantly.

"How could you possibly know?" he says as he rushes to check it out in the mirror in his room.

"Because all your clothes, even your nice ones, like your work shirts and pants? They’re just a little too big on you, so I got a size smaller than what you normally get. And would you look at that! It looks so good!"

They’re in Dan’s room now, standing in front of his mirror, and Phil’s stood behind him dusting off his shoulders like they do in the stores. He’s fiddling with how it looks more than Dan is. In fact, Dan’s just standing there, staring, allowing Phil to straighten everything out. He’s so pleased with how he looks it’s ridiculous.

"Phil, thank you!" He turns suddenly, wrapping his arms around Phil’s middle.

Phil stumbles back a bit, not expecting this action, but hugs Dan back anyway.

"You’re welcome." There’s a lilt in his tone even though he’s not actually asking a question.

Dan pulls away and holds Phil at arm’s length, hands on his shoulders.

It’s just a stupid jacket. Yet he feels completely overwhelmed by Phil once again.

And in that moment, he realises Phil is more to him than a best friend. He means more to him than even Aimee had meant to him, which is surprisingly easy for him to admit to himself.

Because of that damn coat, he has emotions swirling around in his head that he had thought were packed away, never to be thought about again. As he gazes into Phil’s eyes, though, they’re all there. They’re all present and crystal clear.

And Phil’s staring back at him happily, and they’re both just being right twats staring at the other with big goofy grins and sappy eyes.

Before Dan can think twice about his next action, he leans forward and kisses Phil.

It’s only a peck, and he backs his head up straight away, but the look on Phil’s face has him whipping the coat off and bolting out the door.

Dan makes it to the lift before his arm is yanked back, the force causing him to slam into the person who grabbed him. He whips his head round, and is face to face with Phil. He ducks his head, tears already flowing.

"Dan, please don’t leave," he hears Phil whisper, tugging him back to their flat.

He’s a ragdoll now, his body going wherever Phil drags it. His arm burns where Phil has a hold of it, and surely he can feel Dan’s pounding pulse beneath his fingertips.

They get to their door, neither saying a word as Phil unlocks it. They don’t talk as they sit down, Phil taking his beloved recliner and Dan taking his spot on the sofa, hiding his face in the cushion.

It’s probably nearing midnight now, and they’ve been sitting in silence for about two or three minutes, when Phil pipes up.

"So. What was that? Why-um, where did that come from?" Phil stutters, tone full of confused curiosity and slight worry.

Dan inhales, but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say, really.

"I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry," he squeaks out after a minute, sounding more regretful and guilty than intended, tears thick in his throat. He sniffles, partly because he has to, mostly so Phil will feel obligated to take pity on him and not make any drastic decisions yet. Like "suggesting" that Dan should probably move out or that he should spend some time away from Dan.

"Don’t-mm, I want to say ‘don’t apologise,’ but like. I don’t want to tell you what to do…just, try not to feel bad, okay? Dan?" His voice is so soft and caring, Dan wishes it were possible to turn words and sounds into blankets so he could wrap himself up in the comfort they would provide. Just as words, however, they don’t give him comfort, or make him feel better, or help in any way. They just hurt.

"I do feel bad! How can I not feel bad? I didn’t ask permission, and you didn’t look like you wanted that at all! So of fucking course I’m going to feel bad!" Dan starts crying halfway through his first sentence, and by the time he’s done talking he’s sobbing. He hates sobbing; the choked feeling he gets, the inability to breathe properly, the noise he makes. God,  _especially_  the noise he makes. He coughs a lot, the noises he tries to hold back during an average cry are now full-blown and loud. He knows the way he’s reacting now will tip Phil off to how he really feels, because it was just a kiss. But he hopes and prays to all the higher beings he’s privy to that Phil won’t think too much into how he’s acting. Since day one he’s been overly emotional in front of Phil, so Dan hopes that he’ll just chalk it up to being so emotional all the time.

He feels the cushion sink beside him and knows Phil’s just sat down. He feels his arms wrap themselves around Dan’s waist, his head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn’t want to think about why Phil’s being so nice because he doesn’t want to lull himself into a false security that Phil’s okay with what happened. He doesn’t want to think that Phil’s forgiven him, and then be slapped in the face by being asked to move out, or for Phil to not want to be friends anymore.

Dan mimics Phil’s position, burying his head in the crook of Phil’s neck and holding Phil close and tightly.

"Are you okay?" Phil asks, lifting his head out of Dan’s neck and resting his chin on top of his head instead.

Dan furiously shakes his head, squeezing Phil tighter; he doesn’t want him to leave or push Dan out of his life. He wants to take the kiss back-

"Why did you-what-" Phil cuts himself off with a frustrated groan, and Dan can feel him nuzzling his face into his hair, pulling back to continue his question.

"Why did you kiss me, Dan?"

Dan squeezes Phil closer to him, knowing he’s about to lose him.

Because what’s the point in calling someone your best friend if you can’t be one hundred percent truthful with them?

"Because I like you." He mumbles the understatement into the Phil’s neck, knowing he’d be unable to make out Dan’s words.

"What?" Phil asks, northern accent prominent which, to Dan, is a sign that he’s upset and nervous.

"I said I like you, okay?" He’s so scared, his voice trembling and quiet.

After a moment of hearing Phil’s breathing become shallow and feeling his whole fucking body tense, Dan’s mouth decides his next phrase.

"Y’know what, Phil? Fuck it. I love you, okay? I really, really love you. Shit, Phil, I’m  _in love with you_ , and I’m sorry. I’m so - I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t want to lose you.” He suspects Phil’s going to want to bolt from the room, and being the selfish person he can be, Dan holds him tighter than he’s ever held him, clawing at Phil’s back to get him impossibly closer. He can’t stop the crying that follows.

Although Phil doesn’t pull away yet, he makes no move to copy Dan’s actions. In fact, Dan can feel him getting more and more tense.

“I, um, I’m going to go to my room, okay? We have to talk about this later, but right now…I just-I need to go.”

And with that, Phil rips himself from Dan’s arms, leaving Dan sitting sadly and brokenly on the sofa. He watches as Phil practically trips over himself, he’s in such a hurry to be out of Dan’s presence.

~~~

Dan sits on the sofa for over an hour in the same position, unable to move. He feels numb, like all the emotion was just sucked out of him.

He knows he’s fucked up; he knows one of them is going to have to move out. It’s probably going to be him. Of course it’s going to be him, but he left what little he had behind in Wokingham, and he doesn’t really know anyone here. Sure, he has coworkers and a boss. Phil’s friends that he’s been acquainted with. But the few friends he had and managed to keep were left behind. Yeah, he had abusive parents, but at least he had a shelter to go to, food to eat. When Phil kicks him out, he’ll have nowhere.

He’s saved up quite a bit of money, maybe he could live on his own? Maybe Ian will take pity on him and let him stick around in his flat for a few days - Ian’s really the only one of Phil’s friends that Dan is friendly with, as he was Phil’s best friend before him. He’ll come over for a night every now and then, and he’s always nice to Dan. Helena, too. They’ve been able to talk without Phil being present, maybe-

"Dan?"

Dan hadn’t realised that Phil snuck back into the lounge and lets out a surprised yelp, bringing both hands to his chest.

Phil isn’t fazed by his reaction at all.

“Since you’re still up, maybe we should…have that talk now?”

All Dan can do is numbly nod his head in agreement. Why put off the inevitable?

“Okay, well,” Phil says, making his way to his recliner.

Dan has to turn around, but he really, really doesn’t want to face Phil right now. He’s feeling emotionally raw, and Phil’s presence is like pouring acid on an open wound.

He slowly turns around, making his back squish against the corner of the sofa, legs bent up so he can rest his chin on his knees with his arms are wrapped around his legs. Phil just plops down like they’re not about to have a disaster conversation.

“So, I’m just going to lay it out for you,” he starts, sounding exhausted. He takes a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes. He looks like he’s going to regret saying what he has to say, which just finalises all Dan’s worries. And as much as he wants to stop Phil from saying it, he knows he deserves to hear it, and that Phil deserves to be heard. So he keeps his mouth shut as tears well up in his eyes.

“It’s really difficult, because I’ve never had a best friend like you before. Yeah, I had Ian, and he’s really great and I’m not trying to downplay the relationship we had, but with you…you are so much different. I could have, word for word, the same conversations with Ian that I’ve had with you, but they would still not mean as much as they do with you. They wouldn’t stay with me like ours do. We have a much deeper bond than me and Ian do, and I’ve not known you nearly as long. I don’t want to poison what we do have, you know? But then you go and say that you’re in love with me, and just…I don’t want to lose you, either, Dan, but I’m scared. You’re still so young, and I-we have something so beautiful, we’ve made so many wonderful memories together, and I don’t want to taint it with bad ones if we do go into a relationship and it goes sour, y’know?” Phil says weakly, tear tracks marking his flushed cheeks.

He looks over to Dan, who sees Phil but isn’t looking at him. He can’t, how could he?

He takes a few moments to really digest what Phil is saying. He understands not wanting to taint what they do have in case things go sour, but…

“Things are already going bad, Phil. We can’t just -  _I_  can’t just forget that I confessed what I’ve been feeling,  _I_  can’t just pretend I don’t love you more than a friend or a best friend even. I was really hoping that somehow, someway, it was only best friend love, but then it started feeling like what I had with Aimee and just - I felt like I was lying to you and to myself whenever I didn’t say I love you after something you did, like even back to last year before the party. I wanted you to talk to me or sing me to sleep and you did? I felt it then. And with every little thing you did, every stupid minute thing, I felt it grow. Like when I was sick for a whole month last year and you brought me soup everyday and made me hot drinks. Or when I got a paper cut when going through all those college applications you brought me and you put a plaster over it.

“When you brought that Irish guy into our flat, it - fuck, it felt like I finally snapped back into reality. Like, I’d managed to trick myself into thinking you felt the same way I did, like it was an unspoken feeling we were both experiencing, just we were both too afraid, or like I wasn’t truly in love with you. Just - look, that beautiful, amazing, wonderful thing we had before is already ruined because of me, and I’m just so fucking sorry.”

He’s worn out by the end of his little monologue. He didn’t know he had wanted to say that much, that there were so many things he had kept from his best friend, but there they are. All out in the open now for Phil to interpret or misunderstand or even ignore if he wants.

“Dan, you don’t get it. You - I didn’t - I  _don’t_  want to hurt you. You’ve had horrible parents and you’ve been abused, I don’t want to be another person that hurts you. I…I love you too much to be just another bad memory one day, Dan. I’m no good in relationships, it never turns out good. I don’t want to fuck this up.” His voice is thick with tears.

Dan heard everything, of course he did, he’s Dan and Phil’s words are never missed. He’s only focusing on one part, though.

_He loves me?_

He almost says it out loud, but then he thinks better of it.

_Duh, of course he does you idiot. You’re his best friend, course he loves you._

But then he focuses on the rest of what Phil had said:

_“I’m no good in relationships…I don’t want to fuck this up…”_

“Can we at least try?” is all Dan says, voice cracking on the last word.

His heart is tight as he waits for Phil to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best Friends.


	4. Give Me a Long Kiss Goodnight

> _Warnings: hand jobs/blow jobs, fingering, microscopic ‘how to’ for anal play, food._

Dan notices a lot of subtle changes. Like, when the leaves are  _just_  changing to their autumn hues or the crisp smell of the air before it rains.

So when something as obvious as Phil avoiding Dan happens, he’s bound to notice.

They used to make dinner together every day, except when they ordered take out, then eat together. They used to talk about everything and nothing at all, they used to ask about each other’s day, and listen to either how wonderfully it had gone or rants about how they just wanted to quit their jobs and travel. Hell, they used to  _talk_. They don’t do that anymore, though. Phil won’t seem to allow any interaction between them.

 

Phil started leaving the house for work, going to the library or a Starbucks or some other café that allowed him to stay there for as long as he wanted without purchasing a lot of food or drinks. He makes sure to be out of the flat by the time Dan’s fully awake, and he knows Phil comes back when Dan’s left for his job, taking a cue from Death Note and leaving a piece of lead in the door that, unless removed, will break and fall to the floor. He’ll leave again before Dan comes home, which he thinks is so fucking stupid. Why doesn’t he just hide in his room?

It has been this way for two weeks. He’s spent too much time up late at night wondering if Phil actually meant that he didn’t want to hurt Dan, because  _this?_  This is fucking torture.

The morning after Dan’s confession, after Phil had gotten up and left without answering his last question, Dan came out of his bedroom with bloodshot eyes, having cried himself to sleep. Phil took one look at him and had ducked his head, grabbed his laptop and shoved it in his shoulder bag. He then threw his coat on and mumbled something about “having extra work today.” Dan had spent the rest of that day a snivelling mess, curled up in his duvet in his room and having a pity-party, complete with a tragic-love-story-movie marathon on his laptop. He started (and ended) with his all time favourite, _Moulin Rouge!_ , with  _The Notebook,Titanic_ ,  _Atonement, Brokeback Mountain,_ and  _Up_ (of all movies) mixed in. He felt like such a cliché, snuggled around a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough and a box of tissues, only leaving his room when he ran out of ice cream and needed something else to munch on.

He had forgotten to call in to work, but his boss had told him she’d write it off so long as the men’s bathroom was cleaned for no extra pay (it was vile, but he’d gotten off easy).

He noticed this morning as he emptied his cereal into his bowl, finishing off the box, that Phil definitely hasn’t been eating it, and for some reason that made everything in him snap.

It’s eleven o’clock at night now, and Dan is wide awake, laying on his back over the duvet, still in his work clothes. It’s eerily silent, and normally Dan would be listening to music right now and reading a book. Tonight, however, he’s been staring at Phil’s ceiling, not touching anything other than the man’s bed. It’s a slight invasion of privacy, but he’s convinced himself that if he doesn’t go rifling through Phil’s belongings, then it doesn’t actually count.

Finishing his cereal for the first time since he moved in with Phil was the deciding factor: the bullshit silence between him and his best friend has gone on for too long, and he wants it to end. Whether that’s a good thing or not, he doesn’t care at this point. It hurts living in the same space as Phil when he can’t talk to him.

Dan holds his breath as he hears the front door open and shut. By now, he knows Phil will quickly make himself a sandwich or a bowl of (his own) cereal, and scurry off to his bedroom.

As a last second decision, he hurriedly stands and waits in the corner of his room that’s parallel to his door so Phil doesn’t see him when he first walks in, thanking the universe that there’s a miniature hallway-type area before the actual bedroom.

 _It’s like I’m dealing with a scared cat,_  Dan thinks to himself.

If he weren’t listening for it, he surely would have missed the door opening and closing because it was so quiet.

The lights come on next, making Dan rapidly blink as he’s been in the dark for over an hour.

Phil throws his dinner and laptop bag onto his bed and Dan has to guess that he’s either getting changed or just taking off his coat (as Phil hasn’t been using the hooks over their entrance door). He hopes he’s just taking his jacket off.

He’s staring and waiting for Phil, thinking that maybe he should’ve waited in his own room and just come in after knowing Phil was home. Or that he should’ve waited in Phil’s ensuite bathroom.

 _Too late for that,_ he thinks bitterly to himself.

He watches as Phil makes his way to his bed, plopping down on the mattress. He goes to grab his sandwich but hesitates.

In that moment of hesitation, Dan knows he’s been made.

He knows that Phil’s going to try and make a break for it by the way he’s poised, so he darts in front of the pathway. Just in time, too, as Phil bumps into him and falls backwards, landing on his ass with an “oomph.”

Dan feels bad for knocking him over, but at the same time he wants to cry. This is the first time he’s seeing his best friend in person in a week.

With tears already forming in his eyes, he crouches down in front of Phil, leveling their faces.

“We need to talk, Phil.”

Phil weakly looks up to meet his eyes, his own flickering between Dan’s.

Tears well up as Phil nods his head.

“Okay.”

~~~

“So do you understand now? Do you get why I don’t want to date you?” Phil says, sniffling at the end of his question.

Dan’s staring down at his hands, a headache forming from the crying. He nods, because yes, he gets it. He gets that Phil is scared and worried, that he doesn’t want to ruin their friendship.

“But you don’t seem to understand that I’m scared, too, Phil. I’m terrified, actually. You had all these little flings, and you say you’ve never stuck around long enough to form an attachment, but I’m the opposite. I’ve only been in two relationships before, the first one maybe didn’t count, the second one definitely did, and I loved her so much, but it was so different. We were basically the same person, she came from the same home-life that I had, and it was so easy with her. But with you, you had your uncle and assholes at school like I did, but you had a pretty good home life. Your parents love you so much, and I was so accepted when I met them and just…you mean so much to me Phil, and I’m so scared of losing you. There’s no way I can forget that I told you I’m in love with you, and honestly I know that’s putting a lot of strain on our friendship.” Dan stops because he really doesn’t know how to continue.

“You just…you don’t truly understand, though. Relationships scare me. I love you so much Dan, and strong emotions like that scare me so much. I don’t want to fuck up. You’re my favourite person, and I really, really don’t want to lose you, Dan.”

Phil looks over at him, meeting his eyes.

Dan just stares at him, because really, at this point, there’s nothing more he can say or do except repeat what he’s already said.

“You’re losing me now, though. You weren’t talking to me. You wouldn’t even stay in the same room as me. You’re pushing me away, Phil. How exactly am I supposed to take that? You say you don’t want to hurt me, and yet that’s all you’ve been doing.” His voice is straining from trying not to cry.

Phil shifts his eyes so he’s looking at the floor, the bed, the door. Anywhere but Dan’s eyes now.

Dan watches as the tears Phil was holding back slide down his face. The tension in the air is almost palpable, and he wants to leave. He wants to just walk away from Phil and back into his old life where everything hurt, but at least it was predictable. At least he knew what to expect. His father never lied and told him he wouldn’t hurt Dan. And that’s the sickest part, Dan thinks, is that whilst his father was a horrible parent, he never, ever lied to Dan. Even his mother lied, telling stories about a mythical fat man in a red suit or a faerie that loved collecting teeth and would give you money if you left one under your pillow. The people who seem to love him most always fucking lie to him.

Suddenly Dan doesn’t want to be in the same room as Phil any more. He makes to leave, but is stopped by Phil’s hand tugging his own forcefully down so he plops back onto the bed.

He’s about to yank his hand away when Phil lets it go.

“Sorry,” Phil says. “I don’t want you to feel trapped. If you want to leave, then you can.” He sniffles, not looking at Dan.

He looks at Phil for a few moments, and decides that maybe he can do some of the comforting this time. He sits next to Phil and wraps his right arm around Phil’s shoulders, leaning his head on Phil’s.Phil settles into Dan, wrapping his left arm around the younger’s waist.

They’re quiet for a few minutes before Dan whispers, “What are we going to do, Phil?”

He feels Phil shake his head, but otherwise he doesn’t answer.

A few more minutes spent in the quiet of Phil’s bedroom. Dan’s foot goes numb as he’s sitting on it, so he moves away from Phil and shuffles around, trying to make the blood flow back into his foot.

“We could try?” Phil’s voice is only just audible, as if he doesn’t actually want Dan to hear.

He wants to say ‘okay’ and leave it at that, but instead he says, “I don’t want to do something you don’t want-”

“I want to, God, do I want to, it’s just…I’m scared of fucking up, Dan. I’m scared.”

He knows he should say something along the lines of ‘if you’re scared, then I can wait’ or ‘I’d rather you feel comfortable, so I can wait.’ But he doesn’t.

“We can take it slow? Like, go out on a few group dates?” He’s hopeful, and he knows he sounds just as hopeful as he feels.

Phil looks at him, wiping his eyes and face.

“How would that work, though?”

He’s about to answer, but then he notices the time.

“Fuck, Phil it’s three in the morning!” He laughs a tiny bit in disbelief. Phil never stays up this late, and he can see that Phil wasn’t expecting it to be so late by the way his eyes widen.

“Shit, I have to get to sleep.” Phil finishes his sentence with a yawn as if to prove his point.

“Me too, but at least I don’t have to work tomorrow.”

Phil’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Why don’t you have to work tomorrow? Is it a bank holiday or something?”

Dan rolls his eyes a bit dramatically as he scoffs.

“God, Phil, it’s only been two weeks. It’s Saturday. Did you forget I get the weekends off?”

Phil laughs a tad manically, telling Dan that he’s overly tired.

“No, I didn’t forget that, but apparently I did forget what day it is.”

“I’ll leave you to sleep then, because you obviously need it,” Dan says, getting up off his bed and heading towards the hall.

“Wait!” Phil says a bit too loudly, standing and grabbing Dan’s arm.

Dan looks back, slightly confused and a little hopeful that Phil might suggest-

“Can you sleep with me tonight?”

~~~

They decided to go on a few group dates at first.

For the first one, everyone involved was on a first date and they had gone to a café, as Phil had said that was the best type of first date.

It was slightly awkward, since it was everyone’s first time going out with their partner and not everyone knew the other as well as Phil and Dan did. PJ, who Dan had seen a few times since the party, was with a tall brunette woman, whose shoulders were so broad they suggested she loved to swim. Chris, who they meet up with at least once a month at their favourite sushi restaurant, brought along a petite man with bright orange hair. Then there was someone Dan hadn’t met before, but Phil had known him from work. His name was Charlie and he had a mop of wavy dark blue hair on his head. He had brought along a tall, lanky man who had two different coloured eyes that intrigued Dan.

Dan and Phil were the only ones who weren’t as awkward as the rest, which Dan was thankful for (granted, he already knew they had amazing chemistry). Apparently, PJ had picked up his date from a bar the day before and must’ve been drunk when she accepted to go that day. Chris’ date, as Dan learned later, wasn’t yet comfortable with his sexuality, and it explained why he was sat probably a ruler’s length away from Chris.

Charlie’s date had gone rather well, and the four of them got on well. They ended up double-dating with them the following week, having a good time at the same café.

They want to do something else, but Phil still doesn’t seem to feel comfortable going on a date with just the two of them yet. They’re calling a bunch of friends to go on another group date.

“So, is PJ in?” Dan asks as Phil comes into the room, mobile in hand.

“Yup. He’s got a date lined up with a girl named Sophie. He’s infatuated with her already, I can tell.”

“Like he isn’t with all the other girls he’s gone on dates with?” Dan asks, amused.

“No, this one’s definitely different. After all, I have a name and not just a hair colour or approximate bra size,” Phil smirks.

“Ooo, well good on him then. Do you reckon Chris would be interested in ice skating, too, whether or not he has a date?”

“He’s not been having any luck with his dates, but I can call and see. While I’m doing that, why don’t you call Charlie and see if him and Evan want to come, too?” Phil asks, already dialling to phone Chris.

Dan tenses slightly as he’s never called Charlie before. He decides to send him a text instead, hoping he won’t call and ask for details and just texts back. He knows that that probably won’t happen, as he’s seen that every time Phil texts him, he calls back instead.

Not two minutes after he sends the text does his phone ring, displaying ‘Charlie’ as the caller.

_Shit._

“H-Hello?” he stutters after picking up.

“Hey, Dan! Okay, so I texted Ev to see if he was good, and he’s totally up for it.”

Dan resists the urge to tell him he could’ve just texted that.

“Alright, that’s cool then.”

Silence.

“Okay then. Just wanted to let you know. Bye!”

“G’bye.”

He likes Charlie, but he’s just so cheery and talkative and loves socialising. He’s almost like Phil in that way, but at least Phil knows the extent of Dan’s awkwardness when he attempts small talk on the phone. Hell, small talk in person is awkward and difficult for him.

Phil comes back in with a smirk on his face, phone to his ear.

 _Sorry,_  he mouths to Dan, looking anything but apologetic.

Dan pokes his tongue out and lets his left eye look to his right while his right eye continues looking at Phil.

Phil laughs at his ridiculous face, walking towards the breakfast bar. He sits in one of the stools and continues talking with Chris.

“You could just come on your own, y’know,” he says.

Dan decides to play games on his phone while listening in on Phil and Chris’ conversation.

“I have a friend who doesn’t date, I could invite her so you won’t be the only dateless person?”

He starts with Angry Birds, even though it’s kind of outdated.

“No, I’m not going to hook you up with her, she doesn’t date because she’s not interested in dating.”

Dan gives up on Angry Birds as soon as he sees the title card, suddenly uninterested in the game. He grabs his laptop, wanting instead to go to Reddit.

“She’s asexual, Chris, she’s probably not ever going to be interes-” Phil gets cut off.

Dan rolls his eyes and groans. His computer’s not working,  _again_.

“Chris, are you in or out?” Phil asks, sounding frustrated.

 _Work, you stupid thing!_ he thinks, as he lightly taps the screen like that’ll help it.

“Alright then, I’ll invite Maisie, and don’t you dare hit on her, ‘kay?”

Dan sighs heavily, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. His laptop is fucked.

“See you then,” Phil finalises, ending his call.

He moves from the stool to sit on the loveseat where Dan is, squishing them together.

“‘S your laptop not working again?” Phil said, maneuvering his legs so they’re under Dan’s.

Dan rubs his face, dragging his hands down and stretching his skin.

“‘Course it’s not.”

“You should really get a new-”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence Phil.” Dan said, irritated at his ill laptop.

“Dan, it’s old. You need a new one.”

“So Chris is in then, yes? And who’s Maisie?” Dan asks, eager to change the subject.

Phil chuckles.

“Chris is in, albeit reluctantly because he doesn’t have a date. And Maisie is a friend of mine from uni.”

“Where do all these friends come from? How come I’ve never heard of them ‘til now?” Dan asks.

“Dan, I have a lot of friends you’ve never met, but  Charlie and Maisie were at that party I threw last year. Did you not talk to anyone that day?” Phil cocks his head and furrows his brows for a second.

“I talked to Ian! And Chris and PJ and…Leanne?” Dan starts defensively. He knows that’s not the girl’s name, but he doesn’t want to say it as she makes him uneasy. Even though he hasn’t seen her for over a year.

Phil gives him a small smile.

“Weren’t those the people I introduced you to when it was still getting started?” Phil says, squinting his eyes almost accusingly.

“I don’t remember, Phil,” Dan says, laughing out his name. Of course he remembers, but he doesn’t want Phil to know that.

Phil continues to squint at him, then makes an exaggerated face, like a toddler would make after they found out their parents were fibbing to them, arms crossed over his chest and all.

“I think you’re lying, Danny boy,” Phil says in a slightly creepy high-pitched voice.

Dan makes a face at that, making Phil lose his composure and laugh.

“Don’t ever call me ‘Danny boy’ again, especially in that tone,” Dan says, still a little creeped out. He’s glad, though, that it didn’t leave him with anything but a fond memory of Aimee, instead of a burning pain he felt the last time he heard that.

“Sorry, I won’t,” Phil says, giving him a half smile.

“It’s alright.” Dan says, shrugging.

“Anyway, I need to go call Maisie and see if she can come on Saturday,” Phil says, patting Dan’s thigh as a way of asking him to move his legs.

Dan lifts them slightly, making Phil do most of the moving.

“You’re such a dork,” Phil says affectionately, standing up and stretching.

He kisses the top of Dan’s head before leaving to call Maisie, making Dan blush.

~~~

“It’s going to be cold on the ice, particularly since it’s  outdoors. You’ll need a hat and gloves, probably a scarf,” Phil says, getting excited.

“Phil, I have a nice warm fuzzy hat and you got me those really nice leather gloves last year.” He smiles fondly at Phil.

Phil smiles back. “Okay, but I still think you’ll need a scarf.”

Dan rolls his eyes, but there’s an  _‘I love you’_  in the smile that appears on his face.

“Yeah fine, I’ll go get a scarf.”

“How do you not have a scarf, though? Like, I’ve gotten a new scarf every other year,” Phil says.

“I dunno, scarves just never seemed like an essential form of warmth in the winter for me. Like, it’s literally an elongated piece of fabric, why do people wear them?”

Now Phil rolls his eyes, sighing over-dramatically.

“Daaaan, it’s a part of winter-“

"Phil, we went through this last year, and guess what? I made it through winter last year without a scarf," he says arrogantly.

"Dan, you said the same thing about the gloves and yet what were you thanking me over and over for for the rest of winter?" Phil smirks.

"Ugh, fine," he says, drawing out the ‘i’. "But I don’t want to go shopping," he whines.

"We don’t have to, I actually bought you a scarf when I bought your coat," Phil says, smiling proudly.

"No you didn’t,” Dan says, smiling despite himself.

“Yeah I did,” he says, getting off his recliner and heading towards his room. “I was going to give it to you at some point, like when it got too cold or something, so this is the perfect time to give it to you!” He smiles at Dan before leaving the lounge.

Dan doesn’t know what to say, really. He’s never been given gifts randomly like this before. It feels wonderful, and he feels really emotional about Phil’s kindness and thoughtfulness.

His eyes are already welling up with tears before Phil makes it back in the room, black, soft-looking scarf in hand.

“Here you g-” Phil halts, noticing Dan’s eyes. “Dan? You okay?” His voice is soft and worried, and his face scrunches up in concern.

Dan stands, walking over to Phil and cups his face in his hands. He rubs his thumbs back and forth on Phil’s cheeks, tearful eyes staring into Phil’s.

Phil grabs Dan’s elbows, mimicking Dan’s thumb movements on his arms.

“Dan?”

Dan sniffles, a tear running down his cheek.

“Have I ever told you how thankful I am that I met you?” he asks, leaning his forehead on Phil’s.

Phil looks taken aback, like he doesn’t know how to respond.

“God, you mean so fucking much to me Phil, it’s absurd,” Dan says, giggling a bit.

Phil laughs quietly.

“Well, christ Dan, you mean a lot to me, too. What brought this on?” he smiles, eyes lighting up.

Dan just shakes his head, still staring at his eyes.

“You have such beautiful eyes, you know that? Like, cerulean eyes. Blue with flecks of green and yellow. They’re so pretty I just want to dive into them and swim.” He giggles again, not really wanting to answer his question. “Mine are so boring.”

“Nuh uh, you’re eyes are gorgeous, Dan. They’re that pretty shade of brown that deserves to make a big deal about themselves, y’know? They go, like, a deep amber-red in the sunlight, and they’re almost hazel in low light. If I could somehow translate that colour into a blanket and wrap myself in it, I bet it would be the most comfortable, softest blanket I’d ever own.”

“Philip that doesn’t even makes sense.” Dan laughs heartily.

“Neither does saying you want to dive  _into_  my eyes and  _swim_ , Daniel, but I didn’t go pointing out that fault.”

“The Fault in Our Metaphors,” Dan laughs loudly.

Phil laughs with him. “Those aren’t even metaphors, Dan.”

“Sure they are, abstract maybe, but they are.”

“If those are metaphors, microwave is an onomatopoeia.”

Dan steps back, swatting Phil’s arm and feigning offence.

“Microwave  _is_  an onomatopoeia!”

“It isn’t!” Phil says, laughing and attempting to swat Dan back.

“It is! And that’s the end of it,” Dan says, laughing and flinching away from Phil’s hand.

“Fine, but you’re wrong,” Phil says teasingly, grabbing Dan’s waist and pulling him close.

They’re staring into each other’s eyes now, Phil having to look up a bit as Dan’s just that much taller than him now.

Their noses brush against each other, and suddenly the air around the shifts from playful to slightly romantic.

“Hey Dan?” Phil asks, glancing down to Dan’s lips.

“Yeah?” Dan says, returning Phil’s action. He hopes he knows what Phil’s going to say next.

“Can I kiss you?”

Dan bites his lip to prevent himself from squealing with excitement.

“Yeah,” Dan says happily, voice higher pitched than normal.

Phil smiles back, brushing Dan’s hair out of his face. He slowly leans in, and closes his eyes. It almost seems too slow for Dan.

They’ve been moving slow this whole experience, and whilst Dan wants to move it along a little faster, he respects Phil too much to force him into things.

When Phil’s lips finally meet Dan’s, though, he’s glad Phil took his time.

It‘s just a peck, nothing more. There are no sparks or fireworks, but Dan can feel his heart expanding with the love he has for Phil. He can’t help but smile widely.

Phil leans his forehead on Dan’s, opening his eyes. He returns Dan’s smile.

"Thank you," Dan says.

Phil laughs.

"Why? I mean, I guess you’re welcome? But like. Why?"

"Just. You’ve been so amazing, from the day we met to now. Thank you," Dan’s eyes start watering. "I’m just so grateful for you," he whispers.

"Aww, Dan, such a sap." Phil smile and hugs Dan close.

They stood in the middle of the lounge, faces buried in the other’s neck.

~~~

They enjoy little kisses and make-outs the rest of the week leading to Saturday.

They’re getting ready to go ice skating now, Dan slipping on his Tom’s and Phil tying up his Vans. Dan’s holding the soft angora black scarf that Phil had bought him, his fuzzy hat and matching mittens resting on his black wool peacoat.

Phil gets up, saying he had to go to his room for something.

"Is the scarf really necessary, Phil? It can’t possibly be that cold."

Phil comes back out from his room, carrying a big black winter jacket, and another coat with light grey sleeves and a dark grey torso section.

"Trust me, it is. Anyway, so, if you don’t mind, I might’ve gotten another coat for you," he says as he hands Dan the grey coat. "I thought it’s a bit more casual for ice skating, and it’s a little stretchy for movement, y’know?"

Dan looks at Phil skeptically, even though there’s a smile on his face.

"Phil, how much did these set you back?" The first one had to be at least two hundred pounds based on the designer alone.

"It wasn’t that expensive," Phil says. "Do you like it?"

Dan feels the fabric of the sleeves, noting that it’s probably a cotton-polyester blend. The dark grey section is faux leather and really soft, with an asymmetrical zip. There’s a turtleneck-type collar, but it’s big and roomy-looking.

"I like the style and the colours," Dan says, still feeling bad about how much money Phil seems to be spending on him.

"I knew you would, try it on though!" Phil says giddily.

Dan smiles.

"Alright alright," he says, lifting himself off the wall he was leaning against.

He unzips the coat, undoing the three buttons at the top, and slips his arms in. He re-zips and re-buttons, noticing the sleeve length is perfect.

"Move around in it," Phil says, giving Dan a once over.

Dan flushes at Phil’s roaming eyes and laughs at Phil’s eagerness.

“Can you relax for a moment?”

“Sorry, I’m just a little excited is all.”

“I can tell, trust me.” Dan smiles.

He moves around a bit, flexing his arms and wiggling his hips and torso, testing the movability of the coat.

“Okay, right, it’s a lot more flexible than the other one,” he tells Phil. “It’s really soft on the inside, too.”

“I already knew this stuff Dan, but do you like it?”

“Did you get it for me?”

“Well, ye-”

“Then yes, I like it,” Dan says, because it’s the truth. He likes everything Phil gives him, be it a really, stupidly expensive peacoat or a kiss on the cheek.

Phil rolls his eyes.

“Okay, but would you like it if I hadn’t gotten it for you? Like, if you saw this in a store, would you have bought it?”

“Well, no, because I have a coat-”

“You  _know_  that’s not what I meant.” Phil rolls his eyes, smiling a bit at Dan.

Dan blushes in embarrassment, because he had thought that’s when Phil meant.

“Would I have picked this out for myself? Yes, Phil, I would have,” he states.

“I’m only asking because I left the tag on so I could return it if you hadn’t liked it, Dan,” Phil says, half-smiling. He reaches towards Dan’s sleeve, and that’s when Dan notices the tag.

“I didn’t even see that,” he murmurs.

Phil almost pulls it off, but stops.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Phil asks. “Like, the way I keep buying you things without asking or telling you?”

Dan thinks about it, and nods.

“Kind of. Like, I know how expensive all of this stuff is-”

“Dan, they really weren’t. This coat had a giant rip in the side and I had to get it fixed, it was almost seventy percent off. The scarf? Free gift. The leather gloves? My brother gave them to me a few years ago, but I’ve never worn them and though you might like ‘em. The fancy coat was the only thing I paid full-price for, but that’s only because I broke your other coat. I like expensive things, and I can tell you do too, so I get them when they’re marked down. I did not go spending a shit ton of money on you.” Phil laughs a bit.

Dan smiles.

“Well, as much as I like the fancy coat, you could’ve just gone to a tailor and fixed the zipper.” Dan shrugs.

“Dan, trust me, it’s fine. If it’ll make you feel better, you can pay me back for it?” Phil offers, tilting his head.

“I might have to do that, actually.” Dan laughs. “Because, yeah, that might make me feel better. I don’t like people spending money on me.”

“Oh, alright then. I’ll try and remember to keep that in mind, and ask you if it’s alright to spend money on you next time.” Phil smiles. “We should get going, though. You should wear the scarf, Dan, it’ll be freezing. Make sure to at least grab your mittens?” Phil asks, quickly getting his own stuff in order.

“I’m not sure I’m even going to wear the mittens, Phil. Besides, this coat has pockets I can stick my hands in.”

“Okay, but what if I want to hold your hand? How’s it going to stay warm then?”

Dan blushes, smiling.

“Guess I’m going to bring the mittens with after all, then.”

~~~

“Are you sure Evan will be okay?” Phil asks Charlie.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine, it’s just a cold. Sorry we couldn’t come, though,” Dan hears. He and Phil are pressed together to hear Charlie, as they’re in a cab.

“It’s okay,” Dan says, trying to hide his slight relief.

“Yeah, it’s okay, Charlie,” Phil repeats.

“We’re still sorry though. I’ll let you guys go, have a good time tonight, boys! Goodbye,” Charlie says.

Dan says “G’bye” at the same time Phil says “Bye.”

Right before Charlie hangs up, he laughs and says “You guys are fuckin’ cute.”  _Click._

"Okay then." Phil giggles a bit, a dusting of light pink covering the apples of his cheeks.

"Did he just say…? That?" Dan says, speaking higher than normal.

"Yup, he really did. We are dating though, so…it was a nice compliment." Phil says, grabbing Dan’s hand and squeezing it, smiling at him.

Dan blushes hard and looks down at his and Phil’s intertwined fingers, squeezing back. He looks up and smiles brightly and widely at Phil.

They arrive at the skating rink ten minutes later, pay the cab driver and stand around looking for their friends.

"I’m going to text the others, see if they’re here yet. Oh, and do you mind if I invite Ian and Helena?" Phil rushes, getting his phone out.

“What, on the off-chance that they’re in the area?” Dan says sarcastically. They live about an hour south of here, and neither Phil or Ian make the trip too often to see each other because of money.

“Well, yeah,” Phil says, though Dan can hear the longing. He knows Phil misses Ian.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead," he says, even though he doesn’t really want to be around Mr. and Mrs. long-term relationship with Phil. Being with them seems like it would pressure Phil to be in a fully-committed relationship, where right now they’re just in a casual dating-thing. Even though Dan’s ready to move on from that, he understands that Phil doesn’t seem like he is. He wants Phil to be comfortable with where they’re at, and to not feel rushed in any way.

"Okay, I’ll send Ian a quick text telling him where we are and if he and Helena would like to join us and the rest,” Phil says.

“Alright,” says Dan, smiling at Phil.

Phil smiles back and quickly types out the invitation.

“I hope the rest of ‘em don’t mind. I mean, PJ and Chris get on with Ian just fine, but I don’t know about Maisie.”

“She’ll be fine, she gets along with everybody, doesn’t she?” Dan asks.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Great. I think I see PJ and…what’s her name? Sophia?”

“Sophie.”

“Right, well I think they’re coming.” Dan subtly points in their direction.

Phil follows his finger.

“Oh, yup, that’s PJ, so that has to be Sophie,” Phil says, smiling and waving the two over to where they’re standing.

PJ waves back and places his other hand presumedly on her upper back.

“See Dan? Peej is dressed warmly,” Phil says, apparently within PJ’s earshot.

“Yup! Better to have more layers than not enough,” PJ says, grinning. “Phil, Dan, this is Sophie.”

 _Better to get the awkward introduction out of the way first,_  Dan thinks.

He smiles and nods his head a bit towards her, and only too late does he realise she was offering up her hand to shake.

“Hi, Sophie, I’m Phil, and this is Dan,” Phil says, pointing to him at his name and shaking her hand after, only slightly saving his arse from total embarrassment.

Dan offers his hand out just as Sophie is retracting hers from Phil’s; she shakes his hand and returns the smile and nod he gives her.

Dan takes in her appearance as she turns her attention back to PJ. She’s on the shorter side, he notes. Her shoulder-length hair is super curly and dark chestnut brown, though lighter than PJ’s . Her eyes are a really nice shade of brown. She’s wearing a thick red fleece coat, floral printed corduroy pants and pastel pink saddle shoes.

“So, you’re okay if Ian and Helena show up, right?” he hears Phil ask.

“Oh, yeah. They’re good people, I enjoy their existences,” PJ says, and smiles over at his date.

“So, who are we definitely waiting on?”

“Chris for sure, and to my knowledge he’s not bringing a date because he couldn’t find one,” Phil says.

He watches PJ roll his eyes.

“That boy needs to just relax with the dating thing,” PJ laughs a bit. “And Maisie’s coming, too? So it’s not like he’s going to be the only one here not on a date.” His face flushes as he looks at Sophie, whose face is also notably pinker.

“True.”

They stand around for a few moments, before they all collectively turn their heads towards someone yelling out Phil’s name quite loudly.

“Ian!” Phil says, breaking away from the group to hug his friend.

“It’s been, what, six months?” Ian says, pulling out of the hug.

“Yeah, something like that. Were you ever going to tell me you were here?” Phil asks.

“We were going to surprise you at your apartment, but as we were getting into the cab, we got your text and, well, here we are!” Ian laughs, as he pats Phil on the back. They both start walking over to join the group.

“And here  _you_  are, where’s Helena? And why were you guys coming up here without telling me? You could’ve stayed at our place,” Phil says, putting his hand at the small of Dan’s back, making a blush appear on Dan’s cheeks.

“She picking up the skates. Hey PJ!” Ian says, turning his attention to the other brown haired man.

“Hey Ian! Long time no see!” PJ says, offering a hug that Ian takes.

“Yeah, man. How’ve you been? How’s uni?”

“I’m in my final year, actually,” PJ says proudly.

“Wow, congrats, bud! That’s amazing.”

“Thanks. It’s been difficult, but I expected as much.”

“Yeah, Uni’s full of ups and downs,” Ian laughs. “And who’s this lovely lady in red?” he asks, motioning to Sophie who promptly flushed.

“Sophie, I’m PJ’s date,” she says softly, grinning.

“I’m Ian, friend of PJ’s, nice to meet you,” he says, offering his hand to shake which she takes.

“Nice to meet you, as well,” she returns, still grinning.

“And how do you know this crazy git?” Ian asks, with a sarcastic tone.

“Uni, actually. We have the same friend group, basically.”

“Good, good,” says Ian, giving a small smile.

“I’m here!” Dan hears Helena call out, and looks over to see her jogging a bit with two pairs of skates dangling from her hands.

She greets everyone, going through the same sort of introduction with Sophie that Ian had done.

“We should go get our skates, too,” Phil says to Dan.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Peej, we can go get yours and Sophie’s too, if you want?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks. Here,” PJ hands Phil two fivers to pay for the rented skates. “Nine and…four and a half, right?” he asks Sophie.

“Yup. Or thirty seven if they go by European sizes instead of English, thank you,” she adds, smiling at Phil.

“Oh, forty three if that’s the case, thanks,” PJ adds.

“Alright then, we’ll be right back.”

Phil hooks his arm with Dan’s, leading the way to the station to rent the skates.

“Whatize are you?” he asks Dan.

“Um, I think ten and a half? So, forty five, if that’s the chart they go off.”

Phil nods.

They get to the station and are able to get the shoes quickly enough, sending them back to their group in a matter of minutes even though the rink is full of people.

When they get back, they notice Chris has shown up with a date.

“Dan, Phil! Nice to see you lads again,” Chris says.

Dan nods.

“Lads, this is Katy. Katy, this is Dan and Phil,” Chris says, pointing to one and then the other.

Dan says ‘hi’ at the same time both Phil and Katy say ‘hello.’ They all laugh a bit awkwardly.

“So, as I was just telling these gits about how me and Katy met,” Chris says, pointing a thumb towards the others behind him as he has his back to everyone else.

Behind him, Ian rolls his eyes at PJ, who responds with a similar disapproval gesture.

“We met at the pub I went to a few nights ago, and she said she loved the winter and shit, so I decided to ask her out for tonight,” Chris grins, as if this is an achievement of a lifetime.

“Awesome, Chris,” Phil said, soundly slightly exhausted.

“Right? So, we’re going to go get the skates now, we’ll be right back.” Still grinning, he grabs Katy’s arm and practically drags her over to the station.

“Why does he do that to himself?” PJ asks rhetorically.

No one really has an answer, but Phil tries all the same. “He just really wants a relationship, so he looks for anyone who has even the slightest common interest with him or likes something that’s related to something he likes”

PJ, Ian and Helena all nod their heads in agreement.

“I have to agree with you there, Phil. Like today, ‘oh, she said she liked winter and I happened to be going iceskating’ thing. I wanted to hit my forehead, it sounded so stupid,” PJ says. “Like, I feel bad for saying this because he’s a good friend, but he’s just so desperate for a relationship and it shows. Did you see how awkward Katy looked when he was telling the story?”

“Maybe we need to not judge Chris? He’s desperate, sure, and he could get himself hurt if he shows that to the wrong people, but really he just wants to find what me and Ian have. I can understand that,” Helena says.

 _What me and Phil have, too,_  Dan mentally adds.

“True,” says Phil.

PJ looks skeptical, but doesn’t comment, and Sophie just looks awkward to be hearing this.They move away from Dan and the rest of them a bit, starting up a conversation of their own.

“So, Ian, Helena, what brings you guys up here?” Phil asks, wanting to change the subject.

“Oh, right. It’s nothing big, really,” Ian replies, smirking at Helena. She swats at his arm.

“Yeah, it’s really nothing,” she says sarcastically.

“We just got engaged is all,” Ian says, shurgging his shoulders like it’s no big deal,though Dan can see the happiness in his face.

“Really?” Phil says ecstatically. “Aw, congratulations!” He hugs them both tightly. “I’m so happy for you guys!” he continues, grinning widely. “When? Where? Surprise, or did you see it coming? Details, you two!” he laughs.

“Calm down, chatter box. We’ll get there. Actually, we’re probably going to go to dinner after this if you and Dan would like to join us? We could discuss it there?” Ian’s voice gets softer as he continues, finishing with a whisper.

Dan wants to ask why he’s acting weird, but then he notices Ian’s eyes are directed behind him and Phil.

“Hey, Chris!” Ian says cheerfully, falsely.

“Hey?” Chris says, confused but smiling nonetheless. His arm is hanging around Katy’s neck.

“So, we’re all ready now. Where’s Maisie?” Ian asks, turning to Phil.

“Um.” He pulls out his phone. “She said there was an accident and she’d be here late, but she’s coming.”

“Phil, how long ago did she text you?” Dan asks, eyebrow raised.

“Uh, about fifteen-”

“I’m here!” Dan hears, turning towards the voice.

A young woman with straight shoulder length cinnamon hair comes jogging up, stopping by Phil.

“Hey, Maisie! We were just talking about you. Guys!” He waits until he has everyone’s attention. “This is Maisie Maisie, this is PJ, Sophie, Chris, Katy, Ian and Helena, and Dan,” he smiles.

“Well, hello, everyone. Sorry I’m a bit late,” she grins. “I’ll just go and grab a pair of skates. You guys can go ahead and get skating, I’ll catch up.”

“Nah, we’ll wait,” says Phil. “You guys go ahead.”

The others head off, leaving Dan, Phil and Maisie in the queue for the skates..

“I didn’t think everyone was going to be coupled off like that, sorry May.” Phil says, sounding apologetic.

“It’s fine, honestly. I kind of feel better this way, because then at least I know I won’t be getting hit on by that one boy you said was sort of a nuisance,” she laughs.

“I had told him not to, but something tells me he would’ve tried anyway.” Phil shakes his head at the thought. “Disrespectful, that one is.” He laughs.

Maisie laughs, too.

Dan smiles slightly, but suddenly he doesn’t feel like being here anymore.

She gets her skates, and they start to walk over to the rink. They get their skates on, putting their shoes in little cubbies, and go off on the rink.

Maisie’s an excellent ice skater, so as soon as they’re on the rink, she’s off, leaving Dan and Phil alone.

“Hey, you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Phil asks Dan, helping the younger one onto the rink.

“I just don’t feel like socialising anymore,” Dan says quietly.

They’ve only just started going around the rink, but Phil stops them. He skates in front of Dan and grabs Dan’s arms, only to have his hands slide down to take his hands instead.

“What’s wrong?” Phil asks, furrowing his brows.

“Honestly? Because I don’t think you’ll want to hear my honest answer, Phil,” Dan warns him.

“Dan, there’s no point in any relationship where not being honest is best, so tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s not that - there’s nothing  _wrong_ , really.  It’s just that - for some reason - I feel like you might feel pressured to become, like, official boyfriends or something. Or like having Ian and Helena here would make you feel pressured to be official when you’re not ready-”

“Dan, you are really stressing yourself over nothing, okay? The only person that can make me feel pressured over that is really myself. Maybe you could too, but you’ve been so good with letting me take this at my own pace, and I’m extremely thankful for that. I don’t feel pressured to be official with you.” He squeezes Dan’s hands, presumably trying to be comforting for Dan.

Phil must see Dan’s face drop and grow pale.

“No no no, that doesn’t mean I don’t _want_  to be official, it just means I don’t feel _pressured_.”

“Will you tell me if I make you feel pressured about taking our relationship to the next level? Because really, I’ve been too scared to make any sort of move - I would much rather not have this conversation at a fucking skating rink,” Dan coughs out a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s pause this conversation and continue it later, okay? How about we just enjoy this group date and skate around a lot?”

He lets go of Dan’s hands, moving to skate away, but Dan reaches out with his right hand to hold Phil’s left.

Phil looks back at Dan, then glances down at their mittened and gloved hands folded into the other’s.

Dan gives Phil a sheepish smile, nervously awaiting Phil’s approval.

He grins, squeezing Dan’s hand and pulling him forward a bit so they’re side by side.

They skate around hand-in-hand for about half an hour, and Dan’s smile hasn’t left his face.

They’re going around for probably the twentieth time, when they spot PJ, Sophie, and Maisie off to the side, laughing at something Sophie had said. PJ notices them, and waves them over.

Dan’s smile falters.

“We should go over there,” Phil says, sounding a lot less disappointed than Dan feels.

“Hey, you two!” They’re greeted with pats on their arms from PJ.

“Hey, Peej. Sophie, Maisie.” Phil nods at them in greeting. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty well I think.” PJ looks over to Sophie with a slight blush dusting his cheeks.

Sophie blushes at PJ’s comment, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, I’d say that, too.”

“That’s great you two,” Phil says, smiling at them.

“So, Maisie, are you good?”

“Excellent, really. I love skating and it’s been so long since I’ve gone, so thanks for inviting me along.” She thumps Phil’s back.

“No problem, really. Hey, do any of you know where Chris and…” Phil pauses.

“Katy?” Dan offers.

“Ah yeah, Katy. Do you know where they went off to?”

They collectively shake their heads.

“No, I haven’t seen them since we got on the rink,” says Sophie.

“I haven’t, either,” Maisie adds.

“Ditto,” says PJ.

“I definitely haven’t. Dan, you?”

Dan shakes his head. He had forgotten the rest of them were here, actually. He and Phil had been in their own little world, and for that little space of time he’d believed them to be on a date, just the two of them. He hates when he’s pulled out of his little dreamland.

He decides to take Phil’s ‘definitely’ as a good thing. Maybe Phil was just as dazed in dreamland as he was.

“Maybe they left?” Maisie offers.

“No, Chris doesn’t just leave without saying goodbye,” PJ says.

They continued this conversation for a few more minutes before Ian and Helena joined them.

“Hey,” they say in unison.

“Hey,” Phil says. “Have either of you seen Chris and…and his date?”

Ian looks at Helena and they both shake their heads.

“No, although we haven’t exactly been looking,” says Helena.

“I’m gonna call him and see what’s up,” PJ says, pulling out his phone.

He skates away from the group, leaving an out-of-place-looking Sophie behind.

“So, how long have you all known each other?” she asks.

“Well, I’ve known Phil since we were thirteen, so about eleven years now?” Ian huffs out a laugh.

“Ha! Damn has it already been that long?” Phil says.

“Seems like it. How awesome though, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So, yeah, Phil I’ve known for eleven years. Helena and me have known each other basically our whole lives - we were neighbours from when we were born up ‘til we were fifteen. We still called each other every day. Phil’s going to have to fill you in on the rest,” he finishes.

“Yeah, so I’ve only known Helena for, what, seven years?” He tilts his head, looking at her.

She ponders about it for a moment.

“Ian introduced us at his—seventeenth? Eighteenth?—birthday ‘get together’, right?” she says. “So, yeah, seven years sounds about right.”

“Okay, so seven years, then me and PJ met at a café when he asked me to watch one of his short films about four years ago. I actually used to love making films, and watching other people’s films was like the second-best thing. I actually really wanted to do some sort of film production degree, since I did media A Level. Ended up doing maths though, so I could get an actual job.”” Phil sounds slightly upset.

Dan hadn’t known any of this, and is kind of upset that he’s just finding this out now in front of three other people.

“Anyway, so I was really enthused about watching his short film and critiqued it, but then we started talking about a bunch of different things and decided we wanted to keep in touch. Chris I met, like, maybe a week later when me and PJ met up again at the same café. He was kind of lost, since he wasn’t from Manchester, so he asked for directions and whatnot. We all got into a conversation that had nothing to do with how to get to the wherever he was headed, and then yeah.

“Me and Maisie have known each other for about three years. We were in the same house for the last year of uni, and we got on pretty well, so we decided to keep in touch.

“And well, I’ve known Dan now for, what, two years? God, has it already been two years? Feels like just yesterday I - we met. Time flies by so quickly, wow,” Phil says in slight wonderment.

Dan is taken aback as well. Two years. Has it only been that long? He feels like he’s known Phil his whole life.

He didn’t miss how Phil had stuttered over how they met, though, making his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The memories of breaking into Phil’s apartment, drunk, and so hungover he fell asleep twice before finally staying awake- it’s so fucking cringey for him.

Sophie’s eyes had widened a bit when Phil said two years.

“I thought you two were on a first date, like me and Peej. You’ve been together for two years, really?”

“No, we’ve only  _known_ each other for two years. This is our third or fourth group date,” Phil explains.

Sophie nods, looking over as PJ re-enters the group.

“Apparently Katy ducked out on him before they even hit the rink. He said she said she had to go to the loo, and, well, I think you know the rest.”

“So he went home, or…?” Sophie asks, face now only a pink shade.

“Yeah. He told me to tell you guys that he’s sorry for not saying goodbye or anything. Anyway, Soph, it’s getting late and we should probably get back soon,” PJ says, glancing at his watch.

“Oh, alright. It was nice meeting you all,” she says, looking around the group and nodding at everyone in departure.

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Ian says nod in agreement.

“Okay, well, g’bye guys, until next time!” PJ says, quickly hugging everyone. As they’re skating to the exit, Dan sees PJ slip his hand into hers as she leans her head on his shoulder.

“They’re cute,” Dan comments.

“Yeah I suppose so, but they don’t have anything on us,” Phil says, kissing Dan’s nose.

“Awww,” Dan hears Ian and Helena and Maisie sarcastically swoon at the two of them, making Dan’s face heat up again.

“Oh shove it,” Phil says, blushing as well, and laughing a bit.

“Yeah yeah, anyway. I have to go too, guys. It was nice meeting you two, and Dan as well,” Maisie says.

“It was nice meeting you too, Maisie,” says Helena.

Maisie smiles brightly at the lot of them before patting Phil’s arm as a departing gesture, skating off to the exit.

Dan casts his eyes down, uncomfortably aware that Maisie really didn’t say anything to him. Or smile at him. She skipped over him as she was leaving, and for some reason it upsets him. Like he didn’t have her approval to date Phil or something.

“So, Dan, Phil, do you guys want to go out for dinner with us?” Helena asks, looping her arm through Ian’s.

Phil looks at Dan.

“Um, I don’t mind,” Dan says, shrugging his shoulders.

“If you don’t want to go, it’s okay,” Ian says, making Dan feel bad.

“No, I do,” he lies.

He can sense Phil looking at him, but doesn’t look back.

“Alright, well, yeah, we’ll come with,” Phil says after a moment.

“Okay then! Let’s get off this rink, I’m freezing my tits off,” Helena says, making the others laugh loudly.

~~~

“See you tomorrow then?” Ian asks as Phil leaves the cab.

“Yup! See you tomorrow. Enjoy your crappy hotel bed!” Phil says, making both Ian and Helena laugh.

“Fuck off, Lester,” Ian chuckles, closing the door and directing the cab driver to drive them to their hotel.

They make it up to their apartment, and Dan feels exhausted.

They shed their first layer of clothing, hanging their jackets, scarves and hats on the hooks. Dan just drops his mittens to the floor, where Phil picks them up and sets them with his gloves on the breakfast bar. The moon’s full tonight and their blinds are up, so they don’t bother turning the lights on.

He guesses he must look as exhausted as he feels, as Phil says, “It’s been a long day, yeah?”

Dan just sighs.

Phil plops down on his recliner, opening his arms as an invitation for Dan to cuddle him.

Dan decides to cuddle differently this time, kneeling on either side of Phil’s hips so he’s straddling his lap. He wraps his arms around Phil’s waist and leans his head on his right shoulder.

Phil is a little startled at the positioning at first, but eases his way into the comfort of it. He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, leans his head on Dan’s right shoulder.

Dan sighs in contentment, even though he’s positioned slightly awkwardly, unwilling to settle properly on Phil’s lap.

“You know you can sit on me, right?” Phil laughs after a moment.

“Oh, okay, you’re sure?” Dan asks, because he isn’t sure Phil will be comfortable with him sitting in his lap.

Phil responds by pushing Dan’s lower back down, so Dan’s sitting on Phil. He’s not comfortable, but he doesn’t want to move around too much as he’s  _sitting on Phil’s lap._

“Y-You can move,” Phil says. That stutter at the beginning though made Dan think he wasn’t completely okay with Dan shifting around on him like that.

“No, it’s fine.” Dan’s voice comes out a little higher than usual, which tips Phil off.

“Dan, if we’re going to be sitting here like this for awhile, you may as well get comfortable.”

Dan sighs, then adjusts himself until he feels comfortable, keeping as little contact and motion away from Phil as possible.

As soon as he settles in and sits, though, Phil inhales too quickly which makes Dan reassess where exactly on Phil’s lap he’s sitting.

It doesn’t take too long to realise his ass is right on top of Phil’s crotch.

“Sorry,” his whispers, going to move.

Phil locks his arms around him, holding him down. He’d have to wiggle in order to get Phil to loosen his grip, and he doesn’t want to do that because of where he’d have to wiggle on.

“It’s fine, Dan, just wasn’t expecting that I guess,” Phil says, not sounding as put-off as Dan would’ve thought.

They don’t say anything for a long while.

Dan’s hit with sleepiness, because it’s Phil and he always gets sleepy when he’s cuddling Phil, and he accidentally falls asleep.

~~~

Phil’s leg starts to go numb a bit.

“Dan?” he whispers, nudging his younger companion.

It takes all of two seconds after this, though, to realise Dan’s asleep, as the soft breaths that leave his mouth are deep and spaced out too far for him to be awake.

 _Crap,_  Phil thinks.

He doesn’t want to wake him up, and though he knows Dan will probably have cramps to deal with later, he doesn’t want to move him. He didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic about it, but he was really happy that Dan had decided to cuddle like this. He felt like a koala bear.

He stretches his legs out as slowly as possible and wriggles his feet around, trying to gain circulation back in his legs.

Dan shifts a bit, making Phil stop his actions.

_Please don’t wake up._

He feels Dan try and stretch his arms out, but after a few seconds they go limp again.  He seems to be still asleep.

He doesn’t really want to admit it to Dan yet, but he loves how Dan has settled on him, how intimate this position feels. Granted, he wishes they had made it to one of their beds and out of their clothes before Dan fell asleep. But at the same time, he knows Dan wouldn’t have had the confidence, even half asleep, to position himself on Phil like this on a bed.

Phil slides down a few inches to get to the lever that will allow him to reline, and give him elevated support for his legs. He reaches and pulls the lever, glad that it doesn’t jerk as bad as it often does.

He pulls the lever all the way back, so they’re at a more horizontal position. Phil knows that if Dan were awake, he’d move. Not because he was uncomfortable, but because he wouldn’t want Phil to be uncomfortable. He wishes Dan would ask before presuming though, as he never actually feels uncomfortable and is always slightly disappointed whenever Dan stops doing whatever it happens to be. Everything Dan does makes Phil feel the most comfortable he’s ever felt with another human.

Phil grabs Dan’s hoodie off the floor, something he’s asked Dan to hang up for a few days now, so he can use it as a pillow.

He wraps his arms back around Dan’s waist, threading his fingers together and locking them behind Dan’s back.

He waits for sleep to wash over him, and thanks to Dan’s warmth, it doesn’t take long.

~~~

Phil doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, only that he’s being woken up.

He feels Dan shifting around on him, and for some reason that’s keeping him from slipping back into sleep.

After a few minutes of Dan’s continuous moving, however, Phil’s blood runs cold and his eyes pop open as he realises Dan’s not adjusting his position to get comfortable. A quick glance at his face tells him that Dan’s actually still asleep.

 _He must be having one hell of a dream, then._  Phil blushes deeply at the thought.

Dan’s softly rotating his hips up on Phil’s stomach, and Phil can feel that he’s more than slightly aroused.

He decides on trying to fall back asleep and pretending this didn’t happen, but as he’s settling back down and closing his eyes, Dan starts to moan.

They’re quiet and soft, little grunts and hums in his throat. His starts rocking his hips down now, gently putting more pressure on Phil.

 _This is wrong, this is so fucking wrong,_  Phil thinks as he feels himself start to get aroused.

“Dan?” Phil whispers, not knowing if it’s okay to touch Dan in this state or not.

“Mmm,” Dan moans, a little louder than before.

“Dan?” Phil raises his voice to a speaking volume.

He doesn’t actually want to wake Dan up, because he knows he’s going to be so embarrassed and possibly ashamed for what he’s done. Even though he’s asleep and doesn’t really have control over his subconscious thoughts or actions.

He feels Dan start to grind down on Phil a little more, and the small thrusting motions get a little more forceful. His breathing gets a little more erratic, and his moans take on a higher pitch. He fists Phil’s shirt, and Phil looks up to see him biting his lip. In that moment, Phil knows that if he doesn’t wake Dan up now, Dan’s going to wake up with sticky pants and jeans and he’s going to know what happened, know that Phil knows, and feel really bad about himself. And Phil can’t let that happen.

“Dan, you need to wake up,” Phil says in his ear, shaking him a bit.

The movements continue, but not as forcefully.

“Hmm wha’?” Dan mumbles, frowning.

“You need to wake up,” Phil repeats, rubbing up and down Dan’s back.

The movement continues, but only softly, as if his body can’t help but move like that. It doesn’t help Phil’s growing condition at all, but he hopes that’ll somehow make Dan feel a bit better about this.

~~~

Dan whines a bit, scrunching his brows together.

He doesn’t understand why Phil wants him to stop now, he was almost there.

But as he opens his eyes, he realises that he was dreaming and it was the real Phil who was talking to him.

His heart swoops down to his stomach as he feels his face pale, immediately stopping his hips. His heart feels like it’s pounding out ice water instead of blood as it thumps in his chest.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god._

He was humping Phil. In his sleep.

He’s  twenty fucking years old, and he was having a wet dream, complete with motions and noises, on his on-the-fence-about-their-relationship-status boyfriend.

He panics, apologising profusely as tears sting the corners of his eyes. He goes to move off Phil, but Phil’s too quick as he wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, forcing Dan to stay put.

“Dan, just hold on a sec, okay?” he says, moving Dan back to his original place.

“Phil, I’m twenty years old and I was sleep-humping you! I’m sorry, okay? Can we not talk about this? Can I just go to the bathroom or something and we can forget-” He doesn’t get to finish, as Phil rolls his hips up on Dan.

“Oh,” he sighs, feeling slightly better about his situation.

“Granted, that’s your fault, but I just wanted you to know you’re not the only one who’s hard,” Phil whispers, staring at Dan and brushing away the single tear that had slipped out.

Dan sits back a bit, resting his hands on Phil’s shoulders.

Maybe it’s the hour, maybe it’s the look in Phil’s eyes, maybe it’s the feeling he has in the pit of his stomach, or a horribly delightful mix of the three. Whatever it is, he decides to let himself be sexy and sexual for the first time in a long while.

He rubs Phil’s shoulders slightly, cupping either side of his neck and sliding his hands down, then back up. He leans in and kisses Phil, and when Phil kisses back with just as much passion, he rocks his hips once, gauging Phil’s reaction.

Phil nods, grabbing the back of Dan’s neck with one hand and using the other to press him down more forcefully.

He continues to circle his hips more, giving more or less pressure with each rotation.

“Mmmph, someone’s feeling confident tonight,” Phil says, pulling away from Dan’s lips and leaning his forehead on Dan’s.

“Hmm, yeah. Hope you’re okay with that?” Dan says, biting his lip as his left hand tangles in Phil’s hair. He’s slightly nervous that Phil will reject him, as they’re moving things a little quickly compared to how slowly and carefully Phil’s been taking each step.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t stop what you’re doing,” Phil says, leaning in to kiss Dan.

He keeps up the motions of his hips, feeling Phil’s hardness everytime he moves. He’s never done anything like this with another man before, but everything feels so natural.

“Mph, Phil?” Dan asks, not slowing the movement of his hips.

“Yeah?” Phil breathes out. Dan can’t help thinking about how sexy Phil looks in the low light of the moon, his pupils blown.

Dan bites his lip, tugging at the edges of Phil’s shirt and glancing down, then back up.

Phil lets out a groan, nodding his head and lifting his arms. Dan swiftly removes his shirt, mentally praising himself that he managed to do so that smoothly.

His hips stop moving as he concentrates more on the pale expanse of Phil’s chest he sees in front of him. His hands roam all over, fingers running through his chest hair.

“That’s so fucking sexy,” he comments. He blushes when he realises he’s said it aloud, but doesn’t stop running his fingers through it.

“Thanks,” Phil whispers, his hand running through Dan’s hair. His other hand reaches towards Dan’s shirt, and tugs at it.

Dan whines, not wanting to look away or stop touching Phil’s chest. He quickly whips his shirt off, thanking the fucking universe that his earrings don’t get stuck in the process.

His hands immediately return to Phil’s chest, running his hands over Phil’s biceps. He feels Phil’s hands start to move from his shoulders to his chest and back, and for once in his life he doesn’t feel embarrassed or self conscious of the smoothness of his chest.

Phil rolls his hips up into him, and when he feels just how hard Phil is he can’t stop the whimper that spills out of his mouth.

Phil’s hands start moving lower, and one of his fingers starts tracing around the edge of his jeans, then moves up to circle around his navel. He traces his finger up and down, moving his finger so lightly; it tickles him a bit as it moves back down, where he has the lightest smattering of a treasure trail.

Dan ducks his head back down, meeting Phil’s lips in a harsh kiss, then moves back again, leaning his forehead on Phil’s, hips still circling on Phil’s hard cock.

“Can I touch you?” he asks Phil seductively, hoping Phil will allow him to.

“Only if you want to, you’re sure you’re okay with this?” Phil asks, stroking Dan’s cheek.

“Mm, I definitely want to.”

~~~

Dan is the first one to wake up, glancing at his phone to see that it’s ten in the morning; the days of his internal six thirty alarm are long gone.

He really doesn’t want to move; he’s so warm and so  _relaxed_  laying there with Phil. However, he does want to see his face, so he carefully turns around, not waking the older man.

Dan’s eyes flicker over Phil’s sleeping face, mentally tracing his features. His face is a little squished because of the pillow, mouth slightly agape and the quietest snores escaping his mouth. Phil’s hair is flat against his forehead, and Dan reaches out with his left index finger to stroke it, tracing his face and jawline on the way down. Phil’s eye twitches a bit and he nuzzles his head into his pillow, still asleep.

He softly nudges his right leg in between Phil’s. l

He starts thinking of last night. He’s kind of thankful that he had had a wet dream, because it led to an amazing first for them. As he stares at Phil’s lips, he smirks a bit as he realises the tip of his cock is almost the same pink colour.

He loses track of time as he stared at his sleeping companion (boyfriend, maybe?), but eventually his bladder gets the best of him. He sighs, really not wanting to move as he’s so warm and comfortable under his duvet with Phil, but knowing if he doesn’t move soon he’s going to end up wetting the bed. Which would be extremely embarrassing.

Dan slides his leg back out from in between Phil’s, rousing him as he does.

“Mmm, mornin’,” he hears Phil grumble huskily.

“Morning, sleepy,” Dan smiles.

“Hm what time is it?” he asks, stretching his arms towards his legs and sitting up.

Dan glances at his phone, and his eyes widen slightly.

“Er, almost a quarter past eleven,” he says, blushing.

_Had I really been staring at Phil for over an hour?_

Phil chuckles.

“Wow, this is the latest I’ve slept in in months.”

Dan nods his head, even though Phil can’t see him as his face is buried in his pillow.

“I have to go to the bathroom, but um, did you want me to make something to eat?” Dan offers, nervous for some reason. He hopes things don’t get awkward; they really shouldn’t, but he’s not sure that they won’t anyway.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Phil mumbles, stretching again.

“‘Kay,” Dan says as he leaves their room.

Fifteen minutes later, Dan’s just grabbing the bowls and spoons as Phil shuffles in. Dan glances over his shoulder and can’t help but stare some more at Phil’s sleep ruffled hair and his light shadowing of stubble, black-framed glasses perched on his nose.

“Hey, you,” he says as he hears Phil park himself on one of the bar stools.

“Hey,” he says unsteadily. Dan freezes, turning slightly. Phil’s wavering tone means only one thing.

“We need to finish that conversation we started at the ice rink, and talk about last night, yeah?” Phil says, not looking up from his hands.

“Mm hm.” Dan turns back to find his cereal, not looking back.

He places a bowl and spoon in front of Phil, placing his own bowl and spoon opposite Phil’s. He drags the other stool to the opposite side, sitting and pouring his cereal out. Phil pours his bowl, but then gets up. Dan realises he forgot the milk.

After pouring milk in his cereal and waiting for Dan to finish pouring his, Phil places it back in the fridge and sits to eat.

They eat in relative silence, finishing their plates quickly.

Dan’s heart beats a little quicker and he starts biting his thumb nail, his leg bouncing up and down.

_Does he not want to date anymore? Is he regretting last night?_

He can’t handle not knowing anymore.

“So, um, wh-what was it you wanted to talk about?” Dan’s nerves are easily heard, and he winces. He didn’t want to sound like a kicked dog, but that’s all he can think to compare himself to.

Phil furrows his brows in confusion.

“Why are you so nervous?” His eyes flicker between Dan’s wide worried ones. He reaches his hand over, pulling Dan’s thumb out of his mouth and takes hold of it, squeezing it once.

“It’s nothing bad, y’know. I just want to, mm, clear some things up,” Phil says.

“Was last night too weird or something? Was it too far?” Dan blurts out.

“Wha-? No, no, God no, last night was-” He smirks, huffing out a laugh. “Last night was pretty freaking good. No, I’m referring to, like, labels? And that I kinda want to bring you out on a date, just the two of us? Casual, of course, but, yeah. I think I’m ready for that,” he finishes, stroking Dan’s hand with his thumb.

Dan’s visibly relieved; his body relaxes and he smiles a bit. He still doesn’t want to push Phil into feeling obligated to label themselves anything yet, so he addresses the dating bit.

“Casual, huh? Like, going to see films and to Starbucks? And chain restaurants for dinner?”

Phil rolls his eyes, smiling.

“Yeah, I suppose. Like, nothing too heavy? So, yeah, basically what you said.”

“Okay, sure, that’s good for me. Can we start today, maybe? I’ve been craving a caramel macchiato,” Dan suggests, because it’ll be super similar to when they would just go out as friends to Starbucks, only it’ll be called a ‘date’ now instead of just ‘let’s get coffee’.

Phil rocks his head slightly back and forth, seeming to mentally be weighing out his decision, before he answers.

“Y’know what? Yeah, let’s do that. Should be fun, I’ll even pay, if you’re okay with that.”

Dan can’t help that his heart skips a beat. He nods, telling Phil he’s okay with him paying.

_I am so bloody in love._

~~~

Later on in the afternoon, Dan finds himself seated in the very back of their local Starbucks on a sofa. He normally loves Starbucks’ interior design, but this sofa is just horrid. It doesn’t fit into the rest of the décor, and the fabric pattern seems to come straight from the seventies with a hideous floral pattern. He’d forgive it, except the colours are muted and all shades of brown. The rest of the café is full of natural colours, sure, but these browns are just absolutely horrendous.  He loves this sofa though, because not only is it super comfortable with a semi squishy seat and a firm back, it’s also one of the first places Phil ever brought him to, and they sat in this sofa every time they came here.

And even though they normally sit side-by-side, this is a date. Phil might want to stare at him the whole time (even if Dan feels unnerved just by the thought).

 _Maybe he’ll want to be slightly romantic and hold hands_ , Dan thinks though to be honest, he doubts that.

"Hey."

Dan jumps, taken by surprise by Phil’s return. He had insisted on ordering and paying for the coffees, asking Dan to hoard their sofa instead.

"Didn’t mean to scare you," he chuckles. "Here you go, one caramel macchiato." He sets down the mug. Phil makes Dan nervous sometimes with his clumsiness, but it seems that if he’s in danger of serious embarrassment, he manages much better.

He sits his own plate and mug next to Dan, choosing the sofa seat he normally would. Dan always sits on the left side with Phil always on the right so their arms wouldn’t bump whilst they were drinking their hot coffees.

They sit quietly, stirring their drinks and tasting them, until Phil speaks up.

"You know what the best part of our seating arrangement is?" Phil asks.

"Uh-hum, no I don’t Phil, what is it?" he replies teasingly.

"That we have the hands we don’t use in between us," he says, confusing Dan further.

"Meaning…?"

Phil doesn’t reply, only takes his hand and laces their fingers together, bringing their clasped hands in front of Dan’s face.

Dan tries really hard not to blush, but the little giggle Phil lets out tells him that he’s failing miserably.

They sit there and just enjoy each other’s company. Dan, as usual, finishes his drink first. He’s enjoying their linked hands, softly running his thumb on the side of Phil’s hand. He wants to lean his head on his date’s shoulder, but that might be too cutesy-couple-y for Phil.

He starts wiggling a bit, as he does anytime he’s caught in a mental debate. Phil notices Dan’s squirming and leans over to ask what’s wrong.

Dan doesn’t know if he should be honest or not.

 _But what’s a relationship worth if you’re not being honest? Especially about something so small?_ he thinks.

He decides to take the honest route and tells Phil.

Phil gives him a look that he can’t quite decipher, then whispers in his ear.

"Dan, considering what we did last night, of course it’s okay to lean your fucking head on my shoulder." He giggles a bit.

Dan blushes hard, mainly about Phil mentioning something private in public, but also at feeling silly to think Phil wouldn’t be okay with it.

He shuffles down a bit and leans his head on Phil’s shoulder. He nuzzles his head a bit, sighing contently.

He feels Phil lean his own head on Dan’s.

"Just so you know," Phil says softly, "I’m okay with PDA. If you want to hold my hand when we’re walking down the street or in a shop, or want to kiss my cheek or give me a hug just because, or lean your damn head on me wherever and whenever, know that I’ll be perfectly okay with that. The only time time I won’t will be if I ask you not to, okay?" Phil accentuates this by kissing the top of his head, causing his just fading blush to reappear.

"Okay," Dan whispers back.

~~~

After semi cuddling on their Starbucks sofa, they end up talking endlessly, about everything and nothing at all. They stay there, laughing one moment then making an intelligent comment on the state of the world the next, until closing. By then it’s dark outside, and the short walk they took there seemed longer back. It’s cold, too, so so they end up walking huddled into each other, arms around the other’s waist, heads tilted in.

As soon as they get back to their apartment, Dan declares that they should change into warm, comfortable clothes, grab a duvet, order some takeaway, and cuddle on the couch whilst watching a movie.

"So, movie night, then? I’m in, decide on what you want to eat, I’ll be right back," Phil says, heading towards his room.

It doesn’t take Dan long to decide on Indian take out, having a sudden craving for vegetable curry. He knows what Phil would want from there, so he goes ahead and phones their order in.

“Hey, Phil? I ordered Indian, hope that’s okay!” he calls out, hoping up and down Phil is okay with it.

“Indian sounds perfect!” Phil says as he returned, duvet in hand. “Now, you go get cozy comfy clothes on. I’m presuming you ordered delivery and not pick-up, yeah?” He waits for Dan’s confirmation, then continues. “Good, how long did they say?”

“‘Bout half an hour,” he calls back, heading towards his room.

“‘Kay, I’m choosing the movie! You’re going to  _hate_  it!”  

Dan laughs, hearing Phil’s teasing tone. He knows he wouldn’t purposely chose something Dan’s expressed a dislike for.

He digs through his clothes, finding his pink-ish galaxy jumper that he loves and is super cozy and comfortable, pairing it with his red A&F sweatpants.

After getting dressed, he goes to the lounge and plops himself on their sofa, covering his lap with Phil’s multi-colour duvet as said bright-eyed man riffles through his ever-growing DVD/Blu-Ray collection. He smiles to himself as he looks at the fabric, how bright it is compared to his own solid black duvet. This is a new duvet; Phil had claimed his old one was just too old and boring for him, so he had bought a chequerboard patterned blue-purple-green coloured one from IKEA. He had mentioned to Dan that they had also sold a grey-black one just like it, and Dan thinks yeah, maybe he’d like to have that one. He makes a mental note to talk to Phil tomorrow about it.

“Ah ha!” Phil exclaimed, obviously finding what he was looking for. “Avatar! Found it! Have you seen this one yet?”

Dan shakes his head.

“Then this is definitely the one we’re watching. It’s long, like three-ish hours, but it’s so worth it,” Phil informs him, stretching out the ‘o’ in ‘so’, to underline his point.

“I’ll take your word for it, but don’t start it until our food comes.” Dan’s heart sinks at the sudden nervousness that maybe he didn’t order food Phil would want, even though he’s ordered the same thing from there every time.

“You, um, did want the chicken tikka massala, right?” Dan asks nervously.

“I literally order the same thing every time, Dan. Don’t worry yourself, yes, the chicken tikka massala is what I wanted,” Phil says, rubbing Dan’s back.

Dan just nods.

~~~

“Well?” Phil asks, removing the movie from the PlayStation 3.

Dan’s sat back in awe, still not over how artistic the details were and how realistic the CGI was.

“That was brilliant!” Dan says, laughing a bit.

“Yeah, I thought you’d find it good.” He yawns and stretches his arms over his head. “Mm, but I’m ready to sleep now. The curry was delicious, by the way. I’m glad you ordered it.”

Dan’s cheeks turn pink with the compliment.

 _Will I ever_ not  _blush at Phil’s kind words?_

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Phil says, collecting his duvet and rolling it up in his right arm. “Sleep with me?” He extends his free hand for Dan to take

Dan smiles, cheeks turning a deeper pink, and grabs Phil’s hand, letting himself be led to Phil’s room.

~~~

The next few months go really well, their alone dates slowly becoming more romantic.

Most recently on their romantic dates, Phil had gone over-the-top. He had brought Dan on a date to an expensive restaurant that had mood-lighting, and menu items listed in French that ended up being one-tenth the size of the plates the meals were served on. He ordered champagne made from pinot meunier grapes, year on the bottle, and tiny, slow bubbles. Dan was surprised that Phil was willing to shell out his money for the best of the best. He was told not to even ask how much Phil was paying for their one glass each of champagne, even though Dan knew it was well into triple digits, possibly quadruple.

He didn’t tell Phil he knew, mainly because he didn’t want to explain  _how_  he knew, as that would lead to talking about his parents. They haven’t talked about them much, which Dan is exceedingly grateful for and continues to be thankful for every day that Phil doesn’t try and pry into his past.

He and Phil officially decided on labeling themselves as boyfriends about two months ago, and Dan was over the moon. Even though he’s been in love with his older now-boyfriend for much longer than they’ve been dating, he’s only said it the one time and hasn’t said it since. Now, though, he knows any day could be an appropriate time to bring up the L-word, even if Phil’s not ready to say it back or maybe isn’t to that point yet. He just really wants to tell Phil everyday that he loves him, and is in love with the clumsy, cheese-hating, lop-sided smiling man that he gets to call his boyfriend.

And overhearing Phil describe Dan as his boyfriend makes him feel like the most special person alive.

Phil knows it, too, and uses the term as often as possible because Dan’s face always breaks out into a bright smile without fail, and his cheeks always flush.

He’s so in love.

“Hey,  _boyfriend_ ,” Phil greets, stressing the ‘boyfriend’ part, sitting next to Dan on the sofa and wrapping his arms around the younger’s waist. His eyes flicker all over the brown-eyed man’s face as it breaks out into that bright smile, pink-tinted cheeks look, and he knows his eyes are twinkling as he turns to look.

“Hey boyfriend,” he breathes out, loving that he also gets to call the older man his.

Phil kisses the tip of his nose, acting extra cutesy and cuddly today.

“So, hey, listen, my parents and brother are coming over today, and I was going to take them out for a meal,” he says whilst combing his fingers through Dan’s still-curled hair. “And I thought, hey, I have a boyfriend to introduce to them.” His eyes go glossy and his smile goes wide after watching Dan’s expression do the same.

“Oh, do you now?” Dan replies, biting his lip after. “I mean, they have met me before, you know.” He boops Phil’s nose, trailing his index finger down to trace the underside of Phil’s bottom lip and leans in to kiss him lightly, unable to help himself.

“I know, but I haven’t told them we’re dating or anything yet, and I figured-”

“Wait, I thought you told them at Christmas?” Dan cuts in, pouting.

“I was going to, but like. I didn’t know what I was going to say? I don’t know, but I’m re-introducing them to you today as my lovely boyfriend,” Phil finishes, leaning his forehead on Dan’s and giving a quick kiss back. “Sorry that this is really last minute, they just told me today that they’re visiting.”

“I guess it’s okay, but do tell them to give us more of a warning.”

“Will do,” Phil smiles.

Dan smiles as Phil gets up, ruffling his hair.

“Glad to have my Hobbit back today,” he comments, dodging Dan’s swatting hand.

“Shut up!” he laughs out. “So, are we relaxing here for a few hours and then going out? And to where? How long do I have to get re-” Dan’s questioning gets stopped by the knocking on their door.

“Um, I guess they’re here,” Phil says, kissing the top of Dan’s head.

“Philip!” He hissed. “I’m still in my-”

“Hey!” Phil greets his family, hugging his mum first, followed by his brother Martin and his father.

Dan stands up awkwardly, folding his hands together in front of him. He’s still dressed in his short-sleeved cotton sleeping shirt and over-sized black sweat pants. His hair hasn’t even been combed through, and is still a curly mop. He’s overly self-conscious of everything suddenly, from how he’s dressed to how he’s standing in the middle of their lounge.

Phil’s mum, though, doesn’t seem to pay any attention to it as she makes her way over to him, arms open for a hug.

“Hello, Dan, so lovely to see you again!” she says, giving Dan a hug.

He hugs back, loving how she gives hugs. Phil gives amazing hugs, but they honestly doesn’t compare to the ones loving mothers can give.

“Hello, Mrs. Lester,” he says cheerfully. There’s a ball of nervous energy bopping around his stomach. He exchanges head nods with Martin and Mr. Lester.

Phil clears his throat and that nervous energy ball starts dancing to a salsa beat.

“Mum, Dad, Martin, I’d like you to meet Dan, my boyfriend.” He smiles widely at the brown eyed boy, walking over and wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist. Dan tries smiling back, though it wavers a bit.

Confusion veils all their expressions, making Dan’s stomach drop.

_Did they even know their son was interested in men?_

Phil’s brother is the one to break the silence.

“Um, was he not already your boyfriend?”

Phil furrows his brows, shaking his head.

“Oh,” his mum said, “we just presumed  -since you live together and all - that you were already together.”

Dan lets out a relieved laugh, thankful this is their reaction. Phil gives him a sideways glance as if to say ‘what’, but otherwise doesn’t say anything.

“Were you two at least dating when you saw us on Christmas? Because honestly that day kind of cemented the thought,” Phil’s father said.

“We were, actually. He only officially became my boyfriend though a few months ago.” Dan’s heart fluttered when he heard Phil call him ‘boyfriend’.

“Well, okay then!” his mother says, clapping her hands. “We’re starving, where are you taking us, Phil?”

“Mum, it’s only two in the afternoon. Did you want a cuppa first? Maybe eat later?”

“Oh, sure! That sounds lovely, thank you,” Mrs. Lester says, flushing a bit.

“Right. Um, make yourselves comfortable, anywhere except the recliner’s good. Dan, come help me make the tea,” Phil says quickly, bordering on nervously. Dan gives him a strange look but complies. It’s not like they have privacy in the kitchen as there’s no wall between the two rooms.

They make the tea in silence, with Dan listening to Phil’s family hop from topic to topic in conversation and Phil lost in his thoughts. The kettle’s done quick enough, and they steep the herbal tea, passing mugs around.

Two hours later, Mrs. Lester (“please, call me Katherine!”) brings up the topic of food again and asks what restaurant Phil plans on taking them to.

“Actually, I was thinking on a sushi restaurant? Me and Dan love it there, the waiters are really nice and the food’s delicious. They offer grilled skewers with teriyaki pork or beef, too, if you don’t like uncooked fish.”

“I’ve never had sushi, but I’m always up for trying new things!” Martin states enthusiastically.

Restaurant decided on, they talk for another hour before leaving.

~~~

Dan and Phil are finally alone in their apartment again, after Phil’s family left about half an hour ago. They’re sitting side by side on their sofa watching a Walking Dead rerun.

Dan loves Phil’s family, he really does, but sometimes they’re a bit much. When they were staying at their house, Dan hadn’t noticed how they’re just a little too nosey and a bit too friendly. When they were in his apartment, however, it became obvious and annoying. Phil knew Dan was being worn down by their constant questions, and Dan found him attempting to hide a smirk once or twice.

“So, you survived another day with the Lesters. C’mon, give me the truth. How awful was it?” Phil asks.

“It wasn’t that it was awful, just… your parents ask a lot of, um, personal questions,” Dan says.

“Yeah, they do. I’m sure they asked a lot of personal questions as Christmas time, though? Or did you forget?”

“It’s not that I forgot, I just don’t remember them being so intimate,” Dan says, flushing deeply.

“Dan, you’re bright red. Who asked what?” Phil asks, nudging Dan’s side.

“Your mum asked about my, um, sexual history?” Dan’s voice lifted at the end, making his statement sound like a question.

“Oh my God, she didn’t!” Phil grumbles, hiding his face behind his hands. Dan can see that his face is also bright red behind his fingers.

“She did, Phil. She did. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so uncomfortable,” Dan says, laughing.

Phil peeks through his hands.

“I feel uncomfortable! Where the hell was I when this happened?” Phil’s voice is muffled behind his hands as he speaks.

“You were talking to your Dad. She pulled me into our hallway while you were distracted, and rambled off five or six questions that I can’t even remember right now. I swear, if I could’ve died of embarrassment I would have.”

Phil laughs, earning a swat on his arm.

“Dan, that’s just what caring mothers  _do_. They ask their children embarrassing questions, they ask their children’s  _boyfriends_  embarrassing questions. The worst part is, it’s not on purpose. At any rate, you know she likes you a lot. She didn’t bother looking my last partner she met in the eye.”

Dan doesn’t bother addressing that last bit, not wanting to talk about any past partner of Phil’s right now.

“I want to sleep,” he declares. “I’m going to go to bed, you coming?”

“Depends,” Phil says, shrugging his shoulders. Dan waits for further explanation, but doesn’t get it.

“Depends…on what, Phil?”

“On whether you’re up for that or not.”

Dan almost asks what in the world Phil’s talking about, but then he sees Phil’s smirk and lusty eyes.

“Are you for real right now?” Dan says, eyes widening slightly. “You’re actually horny, after that discussion?”

“Oops?” Phil shrugs. “Yes, Daniel I am. But I need to know if I’m going to the bathroom to jerk off, or if we can do something together.”

Dan blushes.

“Well, er, I guess we can-”

“Dan, do you want to or no? If you don’t that’s okay, I just need to know.”

“Will it be like last time?” Dan bites his lip, referring to their first rushed sex experience.

“Again, depends? Would you want a repeat?” he says, standing from the sofa and walking towards Dan.

Dan thinks about it for a moment.

“I kind of just want, like, something sweet and slow tonight, if you don’t mind?” he asks, reaching his left arm out and running his hand down Phil’s right arm to take his hand.

“Do I  _mind?_ I mind  _you_  being comfortable in the situation, Dan, and if slow and sweet is what you want, slow and sweet is what I’ll give you. Only if you want it, though.”

“Well, how about you try and work me up and ask me again later?” Dan smirks and pulls Phil into him.

~~~

For the next few weeks, Dan and Phil end their days with blow jobs or hand jobs. Sometimes it’s nice and soft, the way Dan likes it, and sometimes it’s a little rougher and intense, the way Phil likes it. It’s mostly the way Dan likes it, though, because Phil says he wants Dan to feel comfortable when they do sexual activities.

Tonight is a night Dan decides to let Phil be a little more intense with him as he’s feeling in the mood for it. He’s not letting Phil choke him or anything like that, Phil’s more or less edging and (hopefully) there’ll be a bit of overstimulation again.

Phil’s got his cock fully in his mouth, humming and then tonguing his slit when he comes back up. He starts bobbing his head, creating that wonderful suction Dan’s been craving. Dan’s hands are curled in the other’s hair, his back is arched and toes splayed.

He’s only one or two strokes away from coming when Phil pops off him, giving him a tiny lick and then sitting up on the bed. Dan’s groaning and squirming about, wanting so badly to just stroke himself to orgasm, but Phil has his hands pinned behind his back.

“Phil, please,” he whines, thrusting his hips up for phantom friction.

“Hold on, Dan, I want to ask you if I can do something,” Phil says, putting his hand on Dan’s cheek.

“Whatever it is, the answer’s yes, anything, just please, please put your mouth back on me,” Dan pleads.

“No, I need you to calm down a bit before I ask, I don’t want you just agreeing to anything because you want to come,” he says as he stands and turns the light on.

Dan groans and pinches his eyes shut.

_I was so close!_

As frustrated as Dan is, though, he’s so thankful that Phil’s making sure he gets an actual answer, and not just a hormone-filled agreement.

It takes a few minutes for Dan to calm down a bit, and when he has, he asks Phil what his question is.

“I kinda wanna finger you, if that’s okay?” Phil asks, biting his lip.

Dan’s at a loss for words.

“Wha-? F-Finger me?” Dan stutters. He’s not sure what to think. “Isn’t that, like, unhygienic?”

Phil laughs.

“And this is how I know you’re in your right mind. Right, so it is a bit unhygienic, but I can just use a condom over my fingers,” Phil leans over to his side table, opening his drawer and removing a small, squared foil packet and a bottle of clear liquid. “Or I could use a glove. You’re not allergic to latex, right?”

Dan’s head is spinning a bit. He bites his lip, and although he wants to try it, he doesn’t really want that tonight.

“Um, maybe we could try tomorrow? Like, after you explain some things to me? If that’s okay?” He’s nervous, because it seems like Phil was ready for this to happen tonight.

“Dan, it’s your body,” Phil says reassuringly. “If you don’t want this now, or ever, it’s okay. I should’ve asked before we started, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m pressuring you, I’m not. We can talk about it tomorrow, then, yeah? I’ll just get back to my work,” he winks, leaning his head back down and taking Dan in his mouth again.

Dan doesn’t say anything, just allows himself to enjoy the feeling of Phil’s mouth being wrapped around his cock again.

~~~

The next day, Dan’s on his laptop and reading a news article about escaped zoo animals when Phil comes in, calling his name.

“Yeah?”

“So, uh, can we talk about last night? Like, what we wanted to discuss doing?” Phil asks with slight apprehension.   

“Why do you sound so worried? I’m not, like, going to yell at you or anything,” Dan says, closing his laptop.

Phil sits next to him on the sofa, twiddling his thumbs. Dan turns so he can look at him.

When he doesn’t say anything, Dan decides to bring it up.

“So, how exactly does fingering work? Like, will it hurt, or…?” he asks, hoping to make Phil less nervous about this.

Phil chuckles and visibly relaxes, turning sideways to face Dan.

“Uh, well, did you ever, y’know,” Phil says, making rolling motions with his hands. “Do anything with your hands on Aimee? Like, finger her or anything like that?” Phil asks, turning bright red.

Dan blushes as well, nodding his head.

“Okay, good. It’s basically the same thing, then, just you have to be more careful with your ass than you do with a vagina,” Phil says.

“Well, alright, but what about sanitary issues? You shit from there, Phil, that can’t be hygienic.”

“Hence why I brought up wearing a condom or a glove on my hand,” Phil shrugs. “Some people, though, clean themselves out as best they can-”

“How do you do that, though?” He interrupts.

“Honestly? You have to get your hands dirty, and, well, wipe yourself out,” Phil blushes again.

“Okay, but  _how?_  Do you just shove your fingers up there and just-”

“Well, ideally, you want to go in the shower, and use a finger and do, like, rotations? Like, move your finger in circles to clean.” Phil giggles a bit.

“Do I lube my finger up first, or just go in there?” Dan had thought this conversation was going to be really awkward for him, but it turns out he’s way more comfortable asking questions than Phil seems to be.

“Um, yeah you should,” Phil answers.

“Do I use soap?”

“No, that’s harmful to you. You can wash the outside with a natural soap and water, but I would just stick to lube and a finger or two at best. Eating healthily, like a lot fruits and veg, go to the bathroom a few hours beforehand. That’s not just for cleaning and fingering, though, that goes for all anal activities.”

Dan nods his head, thankful Phil knows so much.

~~~

Dan’s just getting out of the shower, having spent about ten minutes in there trying to figure out how to work his own body.

He made sure to lube his finger up, after gently washing the outside, and took a deep breath and pushed in slowly. He was kind of surprised at how little it hurt, but Phil had explained to him that if he actually really wants to do this, that his rim would be relaxed and it wouldn’t hurt as much. So, he’s glad to know that he definitely wanted to clean out his own asshole.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Phil asks.

“It was, uh, different. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable.” He shrugs, sitting on the sofa.

“Yeah, cleaning is kind of a ‘meh’ thing. You don’t necessarily have to do that every time, though.”

They just sit there, staring at one another.

“So, are we going to do this or what?” Dan asks.

Phil busts out laughing.

“Well, damn Dan, don’t try and romance me or anything,” Phil says sarcastically.

“Sorry,” Dan laughs. “I just - I don’t know, I’m looking forward to it? Also, I had to clean literal shit off of my hand, so I think I deserve something for that.”

“Again, Dan, don’t try and get me in the mood or anything, you talking about shit is enough for me to want you.”

Dan rolls his eyes.

“You better know what you’re doing, Phil. This better be more pleasurable than just fingers in my butt,” Dan says, heading towards his room.

“It will be, I promise! And if it’s not, we don’t have to do it again.”

~~~

Dan winces as Phil adds his middle finger in with his index finger of his right hand.

“Stop, stop, don’t move,” Dan says, panting and sweating a bit.

Phil stops moving his fingers and his hand that was thumbing over his slit in an attempt to distract Dan. His eyes are filled with concern.

“Sorry, I just-I wasn’t expecting that to sting quite that much,” Dan sighs, rubbing the base of hands over his eyes.

“Sorry, bear. Tell me what you want me to do,” Phil says, not moving his hands an inch.

“Um, try moving them, I guess. Slowly, though, please.”

Phil slowly starts to move them, pumping just the tips in and out, nice and slow just the way Dan asked. He starts pumping Dan’s cock again, eliciting a moan.

“M-More, please. Push them in more,” Dan pants, starting to enjoy the feeling.

Phil does as asked, slowly pushing his fingers in.

Dan moans, moving his hips slightly. He’s enjoying the feeling of Phil’s soft fingers, more so than he thought he would.

“Okay, they’re in all the way, are you still okay?” Phil asks.

Dan nods his head quickly, telling Phil to pump them more.

“Okay, okay. My God you’re bossy today, I love it,” Phil says, and Dan can hear the smirk in his voice.

Phil starts pumping them a little faster, stroking his cock at the same pace. He runs his thumb over Dan’s slit, causing a deep moan to escape his throat.

“Enjoying yourself?” Phil asks seductively.

“Mm hm.”

“Good, now, I’m going to put my thumb right on your perineum, okay?”

Dan furrows his brows, not knowing what that is.

“‘S that?” Dan voices his confusion.

“It’s this,” Phil says, putting his thumb in the area between his scrotum and where Phil’s fingers are.

Dan let’s out a long moan and arches his back in pleasure.

“Feels good, yeah?”

Dan nods his head.

“Right, now I’m going to curl my fingers,” Phil says, doing the action. “You might f-”

“FUCKING GOD,” Dan shouts, cutting Phil off. “PHIL! Please, please please, that, do that!” he pleads as his hips start jerking.

Phil smiles, and continues to rub his fingers over Dan’s prostate, still massaging his perineum.

“Can I suck you?” Phil asks.

Dan nods his head, feeling the warmth in his groin slowly begin.

“C-Close,” Dan stutters.

The word barely passes his mouth before he feels Phil take him in his mouth, immediately deep throating him and sending vibrations through his cock that seem to reverberate throughout his body.

Dan let’s out his loudest moan yet, jerking his hips up and pushing himself further into Phil’s mouth. Phil has to hold his hips down with his free arm so Dan doesn’t gag him, and moves his head a bit faster. Phil goes deep throats and hums again, causing all of Dan’s muscles to tense as he comes, calling out Phil’s name.He feels Phil swallow, his throat fluttering around Dan’s tip and causing him to groan loudly.

He feels Phil slowly remove his fingers, hips jerking as his fingers lightly graze his now overly sensitive prostate.

“Have I told you how attractive your orgasm face is?” Phil whispers, pushing Dan’s hair off his forehead.

Dan giggles airily, shaking his head.

“Well, it is. I’m gonna get a cloth to wipe you up a bit,” he says softly, getting off the bed.

Dan lies there, unmoving. He can’t believe how good that felt and he wishes he had the energy to return the favour. He feels his eyelids drooping with tiredness.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet,” Phil says as he comes back into the room.

Dan smiles.

“I’ll try not to,” he mumbles.

He lets Phil clean him up and put a pair of boxers on him. Phil covers him with his duvet and crawls underneath, snuggling up to Dan.

“Mm, did you want me to do something for you?” Dan asks.

“No, I’ll be fine,” he assures him. “Um, I have a question though.”

Dan snuggles lazily into the bed. “Go on?”                                               

“You remember when you said you loved me?”

Dan’s heart clenches, picking up speed all over again. “Course I do. Why?”

“Did you mean it?” Phil asks.

Dan opens his eyes at Phil’s tone of uncertainty. “Absolutely,” he says firmly. “Why, what’s brought this on?”

He brings his hand up to Phil’s cheek, coaxing him to look up at him, and is somewhat startled to see - something that looks like fear. “Hey, hey,” he says soothingly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything back to me, you know that, I’m fine with whatever you want to give me.”

Phil smiles a bit and shakes his head, leaning into Dan’s touch. “No, it’s not that. I just wanted to know… what does that feel like, for you? How did you know you loved me?”

Dan has to really think about it. It’s just been a fact of his existence for so long now: he exists, and therefore he loves Phil. But there was a time when that love had surprised him; he tries to think back, to remember how it felt. “Well… every time I saw you, I just wanted to make you smile. And you’d do just tiny little things, like, I don’t know, the way you held your coffee mug, and my heart would flip over.”

“And your chest would feel sort of tight,” Phil adds tentatively.

Dan nods. “And being with you was like coming home.” He takes a breath and runs careful fingers over Phil’s cheekbones. “Like you said about my eyes that one time. That if they were blankets…”

“Then they would be the warmest, softest blankets possible,” Phil finishes.

Dan feels like they’re teetering on the edge of something here. His breath is coming shallow in his chest. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s how love feels to me.”

“But it’s other stuff, too,” Phil says. “It’s… difficult sometimes. Like, I always want to protect you, but I also want to support you, and sometimes those two things don’t go together. And sometimes, I want to protect myself first.”

“Of course you do, that’s human nature,” says Dan. “It doesn’t mean you don’t love me.”

And then he freezes, because he wasn’t supposed to say that. That was supposed to be Phil’s line, Phil was supposed to say that without any pressure from Dan, how could he do that-

Phil brings a hand up and twines his fingers with Dan’s. “Yeah,” he says. “I think… I think I’ve loved you for much longer than I knew.”

Dan still can’t breathe, still poised on the precipice of something.

Phil smiles gently. “I love you,” he says. “And - cos you always say this to me, and I don’t think I’ve ever said it back - I am so, so grateful that I met you. Thank you, Dan.”

Dan can’t remember the last time he was thanked for anything, besides out of common courtesy. He’s never had anything to offer anyone. He’s never been in a position to buy things for people, or even to do things for them, always forced to focus on just surviving the day. And now here’s Phil, thanking him just for existing, and something settles into place in his chest, like a hole in his heart he’d never noticed before. Maybe he is worth something.

He kisses Phil, gently, chastely, softly, and then smiles against his lips. “You’re welcome,” he says, and means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovers.


End file.
